My Father's Shadow
by MisterEWriter
Summary: His daughter means everything to him, yet he hasn't seen her in two years. How does her being in Hawaii change Steve? I will do my best to remain as true to canon as possible. Please read and review. Thank you!
1. Chapter 1

"What time does she land?" Danny Williams asked his boss and partner as he merged onto the H-1 Freeway.

"1:09," Steve McGarrett replied, checking his watch. Danny had asked him earlier if he was nervous about her arrival and he had denied it. If he was being honest with himself, however, then yes, he was nervous. He hadn't even had a chance to talk to her during the week prior due to his imprisonment and escape, let alone before her flight departed. He was nervous – not just because they hadn't seen each other in two years – but because this summer would be the longest they would spend time together at one time. He had yet to figure out exactly what to do with her this summer as her visit was sprung on him only two weeks ago, and without him having any say in the matter. He hoped it would be an easy transition but feared it would prove to be a challenge.

Stepping on the gas, Danny glanced at over at Steve. "We'll make it, buddy. Don't worry."

* * *

><p>Having rushed to the Arrivals Hall, Steve and Danny stopped when they reached the crowd of people waiting for their friends and loved ones to arrive. Steve checked his watch and then peered over the crowd, looking into the throng of passengers entering the hall. Seeing her, he smiled and then, waving, yelled her name, "Alex!"<p>

Peering into the crowd, Danny had no problem picking out the 14 year-old girl, even though he'd never met her in person before. He had only ever seen one picture of her and that picture had probably been five years old, at least. Where he had pictures of his daughter, Grace, hanging in his office and in his apartment, Steve kept his personal life VERY private and did not have a single photo of his daughter on display. As it was, Steve only talked about her occasionally. Seeing the girl who was coming towards them, there was no denying who her father was; she looked exactly like the man Danny had worked so closely with for the last year. Her face was a little rounder than Steve's, but her hair, her eyes - even her smile - she had clearly inherited from him.

"Dad!" the 14 year-old girl shouted back and, upon reaching them, threw her arms around Steve, nearly knocking him over.

Kissing the top of her head, Steve hugged her tightly. Taking a step back to look at her, he couldn't hide his surprise. Toying with the beautiful pink lei around her neck, Steve stared into his daughters eyes and smiled. "Hey, there, beautiful girl! I can't believe how much you've grown." She had easily grown four inches since the last time he saw her. He took her airline ticket stub from out of her hands, put it in his pocket, and then reached for her backpack.

Returning his smile, Alexandra replied, "I'm taller than Mom now. Only like half an inch but still." She relinquished her backpack over to her dad.

"It's probably more like a whole inch," Steve confirmed, slinging the backpack over his right shoulder. He turned towards Danny. "Alex, this is Danny Williams. Danny, Alex."

Sticking out her hand to shake his, Alexandra greeted him. "Hello, Mr. Williams. Nice to finally meet you." She had spoken to him several times over the last 8 months, usually when her dad was busy being the boss and she couldn't reach him on his phone. It had been weird the first time she had dialed this "Mr. Williams" but having his number available as a backup had come in handy a few times when she really needed to talk to her dad. Mr. Williams had always been friendly and easy to talk to.

Shaking her hand, Danny replied, smiling, "Nice to meet you, too, but please don't call me Mr. Williams."

"I've always called you Mr. Williams, Sir," Alex returned, as Steve draped his arm over her shoulder and turned them in the direction of baggage claim. "Should I call you Detective Williams, instead?"

"Just Danny is fine," Danny replied, falling into step with the two McGarrett's. She was a polite kid and respectful of adults, Danny knew that from his brief conversations with her. But being called "Mr. Williams" was too formal for him. It made him feel old. "Or…"

"How about Uncle Danny?" Steve suggested, pulling his daughter closer to his side as they navigated their way through the crowd.

* * *

><p>"So you really only have those two bags?" Steve asked, turning to face his daughter in the backseat. When they got to baggage claim he had expected to see two huge suitcases full of all the clothes she would need for the next 12 weeks. He had been surprised when one large duffel bag and a small suitcase were all she had. She couldn't have packed very much. At least not anywhere near as much as she had packed the last time she had visited him which had been for only 10 days.<p>

"Yes, Sir," she replied, taking off the lei and her sweater and setting them on the seat next to her, before buckling her seatbelt. It was easily 20 degrees warmer here than in Seattle. She was going to enjoy this weather. "Mom told me to pack light because I need a new swimsuit anyway. She said you can just buy me whatever else I might need, too." She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and began checking her text messages.

"Of course she did," Steve muttered, turning back around. It never failed. Even though he had never missed a child support payment and had always provided for their daughter when she needed something, Alex's mother, Cindy, was aware of how much – or how little - money he made. They had been together long enough for her to know the military pay system and, having been the daughter of a former cop herself, she knew roughly how much he made now. Even still, for some reason, she thought he had money coming out of his ears. It wasn't a big deal that he would have to take her clothes shopping – if Alex needed something he'd make sure she would get it - but it irritated him that Cindy purposely told Alex to leave a lot of her things at home, instead of just letting her bring what she needed. Cindy failed to accept the fact that their financial situations were vastly different. Either that or she simply didn't care. Most likely the latter. "Speaking of your mother, you better call her to let her know you arrived."

"Already did," Alex told him, "I called her as soon as we landed but had to leave a voicemail." Her mother was headed to Paris with her boyfriend, David, and their first flight to New York had left only hours after Alex's. She had been ecstatic when her mom told her she'd be spending the summer in Hawaii, but deep down Alex felt that this summer vacation had more to do with her mom's plans to travel with David on his many business trips than with Cindy's belief that Alex should spend time with her dad. It's not like she had ever really encouraged it before. Cindy hated Steve but, despite her best efforts, she had failed at influencing Alex to have negative feelings about her father. But, regardless, Alex was here now – in Hawaii, with her dad – and that was all that mattered to her.

"So, why should I call you 'Uncle Danny'?" Alex asked, typing a text quickly on her phone.

"My daughter calls your Dad 'Uncle Steve'," Danny explained, pulling out of the short term parking lot, headed for the cashier booth.

"How is Grace?" Alex asked him, her eyes focused on her incoming and outgoing text messages.

Danny smiled, glancing in his rearview mirror at the younger McGarrett. Whenever they had talked on the phone in the past, Alex had never failed to ask about Grace and even mentioned a time or two that she would love to meet the young girl. Danny liked Steve's daughter – she was polite, considerate, respectful, genuine, funny even – all characteristics that he felt Steve was lacking in at times. She seemed like a good kid; it would be interesting to get to know her a little better this summer. "She's doing well. She's actually really excited to meet you tonight."

"Tonight?" Alex asked, typing another message on her phone. "What's tonight?" She hit send and then began texting another message.

Turning around to face his daughter, Steve replied, "We're going to have dinner with Danny and Grace." Noticing her attention was focused on her phone and not on him, he continued, "Are you listening to me?"

"Yes, Sir," Alex replied, her eyes still directed towards her phone. She continued to quickly text messages.

"Can you not do that when I'm talking to you?" Steve requested after a few moments. "It's rude." As soon as they had reached baggage claim earlier, Alex had pulled out her cell phone and started sending a barrage of text messages. As a result, they had missed her bags on the first two go-arounds and would have missed them a third time if he hadn't confiscated her phone until the bags were identified. Now he realized he should have thought twice before giving it back to her.

Looking up and catching his eye, Alex replied, "Okay, sorry." She set her phone on the seat next to her, forcing herself to ignore the vibration that signaled a new incoming message. "I am capable of multi-tasking, you know, and I did hear what you said."

Steve looked at her for a moment before responding. They talked fairly regularly on both the phone and Skype but they weren't particularly close. For some reason, he had a feeling this summer would involve getting to know his daughter all over again. It wasn't just her height that had changed in two years, that was clear. This was the first time he would be dealing with her in person as a teenager. "We're going to dinner with Danny and Grace, partly to celebrate your birthday." She had turned 14 six days ago and, due to his being in prison, he hadn't had a chance to call and wish her a Happy Birthday. He hadn't even bought her a present yet.

"Oh," the girl replied, surprised. Then, smirking, she asked, "Are you sure you're not just using me as an excuse to not have to cook dinner?" This got a chuckle out of Danny.

Steve feigned a glare at Danny, then looked at his daughter again. "Real funny, Alexandra," he said before cracking a smile.

Alex smiled sweetly back at him. Steve shook his head, amused. _It begins already. _She'd perfected the use of that smile at age four and, to this day, it never failed. "Seriously, I feel bad that I wasn't able to call you on your birthday. I mean, you only turn 14 once."

"Okay, Dad," Alex replied, glancing at the blinking red light on her Blackberry. "We don't have to celebrate, but okay."

"Okay," Steve agreed. He turned back around to face the front. "Good. First we have to head back to the office for a little bit – sorry – and then we'll head home to change before heading to the restaurant."

As soon as he turned around she picked up her phone and started to read the text messages. "Okay, that's fine," she finally replied, distracted. Her phone started to vibrate repeatedly.

"Are you texting again?" Steve asked her, turning to face her, a look of annoyance crossing his face.

Answering him, she replied, "That's actually someone calling me. Am I allowed to answer it?"

Steve nodded. "You can answer it."

Alex picked up her cell phone and answered it. "Hello." After a few moments, she continued, "Bonjour! Comment vas-tu?" After another few moments, she said, "Bien. Que je visite mon père."

In the front seat, Danny had a surprised look on his face. "What did she just say?"

Running a hand over the day-old stubble on his face, Steve answered, "That would be French, Daniel."

"I know what language it is, Steven," Danny replied. "I asked what she said."

Steve shrugged. Hearing his daughter laugh, he flipped open the mirror on the visor in front of him and adjusted it to look at her. He listened to her conversation for a few minutes, wondering if he would recognize any of the words she had tried to teach him in the past. It all sounded like gibberish to him until finally he heard one word he recognized.

"C'est gris clair. Il faut que je damande à mon Oncle," was what he heard from the backseat.

Steve shook his head and closed the mirror. "No clue, Danny. All I got out of that was Uncle, so I'm assuming it was about you."

A couple minutes later, Alex finished her phone call and hung up. Leaning forward, she said, "Uncle Danny, when we get to your office can I take a picture of your car? My friend Brian wants to see it."

"Brian?" Steve asked, jerking around to face her. "Who's Brian?" Next to him, Danny laughed silently to himself. Steve's fatherly tendencies – something he'd never seen before – were already out in full force.

"A friend," Alex told him, giggling in amusement. "So, Uncle Danny did you watch the game last night? Your boys won _and _Ayala got his first win."

Danny smiled. One of the things he had always enjoyed most about his phone conversations with the girl was her similar interest in baseball. Not only did she enjoy watching the sport but she was also a student of the game, like him. "I only caught the last three innings. And I saw that your boys beat San Diego."

"Who's Ayala?" Steve asked, looking at Danny. "You are talking about baseball, right?"

"Are you kidding me?" Danny asked, looking at his partner. Then, looking in the review mirror, he said to the girl, "He is kidding right now, right?" Alex simply shrugged.

"No, Daniel," Steve replied, "I'm not kidding."

"How do you not know for sure that we're talking about baseball?" Danny asked.

"I like football," Steve answered.

* * *

><p>"This is the building where you work?" Alex asked, stopping and looking up at the statue of Hawaii's former leader, King Kamehameha. She had been to Hawaii once before – four years ago – and had visited this statue and building during that trip. She had no idea it was in front of the building where her dad would one day work. "Cool."<p>

"Alex, come on," Steve said, looking back at her. He and Danny were several yards ahead of her, getting ready to head inside the building. Alex jogged to catch up. Once inside, Alex followed slowly behind her dad and Danny as she took in the architecture and the stained glass dome ceiling. She smiled remembering the last time she was here.

Heading into the 5-0 Headquarters, Alex was a little surprised at the size of the space. As far as she knew, her Dad had a small team – three other employees – and the space seemed much too large for so small of a workforce. Standing around a large glass table – or what appeared to be a table – was a short woman with short, brown hair; a pretty, young woman who looked to be Hawaiian; and a man whom Alex recognized. Pushing past her father, Alex hurried to the table.

"Chin!" She greeted before wrapping her arms around him in a hug.

Looking down at the girl, Chin Ho Kelly greeted her. "Aloha." Chin looked past her to Steve and saw a look of confusion flash across his face. Taking a step back, he said, "Let's see – you look like her but the Alexandra McGarrett I know is this tall." He held his hand out to about a height nearly a foot shorter than Alex's current height.

Alex laughed. Looking up at him, she said, "It's me. I swear." Turning to her father, she asked for confirmation. "Right, Dad?"

Reaching the table, Steve nodded. Gesturing towards the woman with short hair, he started introductions. "Alex, this is Jenna Kaye. Jenna, my daughter." Turning to the other woman, he continued, "This is Kono Kalakaua. Kono, Alex." Looking at Chin, he said, "And I guess you don't need any introduction to Chin."

Reaching for a handshake, Alex greeted, "Hello, Ms. Kaye. Nice to meet you, Ma'am."

Returning the greeting, Jenna replied, "Nice to meet you, Alex."

Alex turned to shake Kono's hand. "Ms. Kalakaua, nice to meet you, too, Ma'am." She thought for a moment. "Kono?" Remembering, she continued, "You're Chin's cousin, aren't you?"

Smiling, Kono replied, "Nice to finally meet you, Alex, and yes, Chin and I are cousins."

Steve allowed his daughter to catch up with Chin for a few minutes while he asked the women for an update on the status of their current case. Finding out that they had made no progress with the man they currently had in custody in interrogation, Steve broke up his daughter's reunion with Chin and directed her into his office. After instructing her to stay put and not touch anything – and, no, she could not ask Jenna to show her everything the computer system could do – he headed downstairs.

* * *

><p>"What's wrong?" Steve asked, glancing over to the passenger seat where Alex was buckling her seatbelt. Earlier, on their way downstairs to interrogation, Steve had talked to Chin about Alex. He learned that Chin had first met Alex four years ago when she was in Honolulu visiting his father. Chin frequently asked about Alex but Steve never realized he had actually met the girl. He had always figured Chin had just known about Alex from working with his father for so long.<p>

When he had come back upstairs from interrogation, he saw a change in his daughter. Where she had been laughing and smiling earlier, she was now quiet, seemingly withdrawn, and would barely look at him. She had finally cracked a smile when Chin took her for a short spin on his motorcycle, which, according to Chin, apparently had been something he had done with her four years ago, too.

Steve's father, John, had been crazy about Alex. He'd been a proud grandfather. He had visited her in Seattle frequently, had talked to her nearly every day and, as a result, the two had had a close relationship. Alex – and Steve's relationship with her – had been a huge source of tension between him and his father. Talking with Chin had reminded him of this: his father had known his daughter better than he did. What served as a further reminder was now that the initial excitement of her stepping foot in Hawaii was over – now that he was alone with his daughter – the typical awkwardness that always greeted them was settling in.

"Nothing," Alex replied, staring out the window. _Everything. _During the hour she spent in her dad's office, she had looked at every item hanging on the walls. Although it was about four times smaller than her mother's office, it reminded her very much of that space on the 75th floor of Seattle's Columbia Center. Her mother's office was a place that lacked any sense of a personal touch: no flowers in a favorite vase, no plants of any kind, no favorite coffee mug sitting on her desk, no color of any kind to lighten up the dull and gray space, no pictures. She had been in the offices of some her mom's co-workers and all of them had pictures of their children. So she knew that the lack of pictures of her in her mom's office was due to personal choice, instead of being prohibited from having personal items at work, like some of her friend's parents. For some reason – maybe because of how clearly she remembered her grandfather's office – she thought that her dad's office would be different.

On her visit four years ago, Grandpa had taken her to his office only once and that was to introduce her to his work buddies. She vividly remembered sitting in his desk chair and seeing her picture sitting in a frame on his desk, alongside a picture of her Dad and Aunt Mary from when they were younger. Her grandfather also had some of the pictures she had drawn for him when she was younger and a few of the cards she had sent him for Grandparent's Day and his Birthday. Sitting at his desk, seeing those items and seeing how happy he was to introduce her to his friends, she had felt how much he loved her.

Maybe it was stupid for her to assume that her dad's office would be like Grandpa's. She hadn't imagined that sitting in his office would make her feel the same way she felt whenever she visited her mom at work – ashamed and unloved.

"Are you sure?" Steve probed, pulling out of his parking space. "Because you're really quiet."

Alex didn't respond – didn't even look at him – and Steve sighed. This was definitely not going to be easy. After many minutes more of silence, Steve finally found something to talk about.

"So, how did your finals go?"

"Fine," Alex replied, still looking out the window.

"Did you get all A's again?" Steve asked. She was a bright kid – that was clear from an early age – and academics came easy to her. She had yet to struggle with any class; in fact, this past school year she had taken two courses at a high school, having always been a year or two ahead in math and science when compared to the majority of her peers. He always felt a sense of pride knowing how well she did in school.

"Dunno yet," Alex replied. "The school year's not over for another two and a half weeks."

Raising his eyebrows, Steve looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"There's still a week left in May, Dad," Alex said, finally looking at him. "The last day at my school is June 15th." The look she gave him made him feel stupid for not knowing that.

Still confused, Steve started, "So, how did –" He stepped on the gas pedal as the light turned green.

Returning her eyes to the window, she answered him. "Mom had them give me my exams early." Shrugging, she continued. "I guess when you give as much money to the school as Mom does, you do anything she asks." She attended the elite Mount Rainier Academy, a small, PreK through 8th grade school, in Tacoma. If it were up to Alex, she would have preferred to attend the public school near their apartment in Seattle with several of her friends, but her mother believed that public schools were beneath them. Even though she herself had attended public schools growing up, no daughter of Cindy Aberdeen would ever be "subjected to the public school environment". Not only did she pay the $17,000 annual tuition in full at the start of every school year, she was also one of the school's leading benefactors. Alex really hoped that she'd get her way and be able to attend the local public high school with many of her friends in the fall instead of another private school. Maybe she could get Dad on her side and maybe he could help convince Mom.

Steve nodded, now understanding. "Sorry. I should've realized your Mom did something like that to make it possible for you to stay here for so long." Looking at his daughter, Steve could see she was chewing on the inside of her cheek.

After a few minutes, when Alex finally spoke, it was so quiet Steve had to strain to hear. "This is weird for you, isn't it?"

Slowing down as they entered his neighborhood, he looked at her again. "Is what weird?"

Catching his eye, she shrugged. "This. Me being here. My staying here for 3 months." She expelled a breath. "I mean, it's not like you asked me to come visit."

Stopping in front of the house, Steve put the car in park as Alex turned her attention to the house she hadn't seen in four years. He gave her a few moments, and then reached out to touch her hand. When she looked at him, he answered, "I'm glad you're here, sweetheart." She kept eye contact with him for a few moments, and then reached down to unfasten her seatbelt.

"That's not what I asked," she said. Then, opening her door, she continued, "but okay."


	2. Chapter 2

Stepping out of the shower, Steve shouted through the closed door. "Alex! Be ready to leave in five minutes! Sound good?" He toweled off while he waited for her response. Not getting one, he shouted again, "Alexandra!"

After she caught him deliberately not answering her question, she had slammed the door of the truck and started to grab her bags out of the back. After insisting she didn't need his help carrying her bags, she finally relinquished them over to him, and followed him to the front door. When they had entered the house, Alex had stopped and stood in the middle of the room, looking around. She mentioned that he had rearranged the furniture and then she had gone and stood by the windows that looked out onto the beach.

Leaving her downstairs, he had taken her bags upstairs to the second bedroom and then hopped in the shower. He realized how much work he needed to do to make the room ready for Alex. He'd been using it as an office and for extra storage space. It had a bed, but other than that it was not suitable for her to use a bedroom. He would be busy after work for the next couple of days, that was for sure.

He got dressed, wondering why his daughter was not answering him. He found her upstairs, in the room that would be her bedroom. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands resting underneath her. "Alex?"

"Where's all his stuff?"

"What?" Steve asked her, pulling a shirt over his head as he moved to sit next to her.

"Grandpa's stuff," she said, raising her voice. "You got rid of his stuff!"

He held his hand up. "Hey, take it easy. I did not get rid of anything."

Jumping up, she argued, "Then where are the pictures that were on the wall? You have different lamps downstairs and a different tv and a different desk chair and the furniture outside and -"

"I didn't get rid of anything. Some is in the garage and some is in storage," Steve assured her, a little taken aback by how confrontational she was.

She turned to face him, fire flashing in her eyes. She started to say something but was interrupted by her phone ringing. Taking her Blackberry out of her pocket, she answered it, "Hello, Mom."

"Nothing," she said into the phone. Then after a few moments, she held the phone out to Steve. "She wants to talk to you." She handed it to him and walked out of the room.

"Cindy," Steve said into the phone as he watched his daughter leave the room.

* * *

><p>"Here's your phone," Steve said, as he met his daughter at the truck. He had finally managed to get Cindy off the phone, after arguing with her for more than five minutes. She had yet again accused him of being a terrible father since their daughter was clearly upset by something. Whenever Alex was upset, he was to blame, even on those days when he hadn't spoken to her at all. She told him he should feel lucky that she had allowed Alex to come visit him this summer – even though she had been the one to send their daughter to him - and threatened to get the custody arrangements, which allowed him full access to seeing his daughter when he desired, changed if he continued to hurt her. It was the same empty threat she'd been stating since they had split up when Alex was four. No matter what he did as a father it was never good enough for her.<p>

"Did she yell at you again?" Alex asked, taking the phone from him. Her parents didn't talk to each other very often, maybe seven or eight times a year, if that, and most times those ended up in fights. Although she hadn't spent a lot of time with him, on the times that she had, her Dad had always been really good about making sure he didn't argue with her Mom in front of her. On the other hand, Mom did the complete opposite. Alex was more than used to overhearing the mean words her Mom said to him on the phone. Her mother never had anything nice to say about her father and Alex hated it.

"It doesn't matter," Steve told her, as he moved around the front of the truck to the driver's side. He had always tried to be amiable with Cindy whenever Alex was around. Cindy and his problems were theirs and their daughter did not need to be put in the middle of it. It wasn't her fault they didn't get along. But, still, what Cindy said to him, coupled with Alex's behavior over the last hour, made him wonder if, this time, he had hurt his daughter in some way.

Inside the truck, he and Alex both put their seatbelts on and Steve started the car. He expelled a heavy breath. "Hey," he said, touching her hand to get her attention. When she looked at him, he continued, "Did I do something or say something to make you upset?"

"No, Sir," she replied, shaking her head, "not exactly."

"Not exactly," Steve echoed, putting the vehicle in drive and pulling onto the road. "So –"

"I'm sorry I was rude to you," Alex apologized, interrupting him.

"You were more confrontational than rude," Steve told her.

"Okay," Alex said, nodding her head in understanding. "Then I'm sorry I was confrontational." She sighed. "It's just, I mean, I knew you were living in Grandpa's house now but I thought it would be the same."

"I had to make room for everything I brought from my apartment," he explained. "I didn't get rid of anything; I just moved it."

"Yeah," she assented, looking out the window. Being back inside that house brought back so many memories – not just of being in that house with her grandfather but every moment she spent with him. It was harder than anyone knew. She missed him so much it hurt and, more often than not – mostly on those nights when she fought with her mother – she would cry herself to sleep at night because she missed him so much. But, of course, that was something she had only ever told one person – her best friend, Alyssa. Fighting back the tears, she admitted, "I wish he were still here."

"I know you do."

* * *

><p>"That was nice," Alex said, walking towards the truck in the underground parking lot of the Wailana Coffee House. They had just finished dinner with Danny and Grace, where they had a tasty meal and good conversation. Alex enjoyed getting to know Grace and talking to Uncle Danny about baseball. The only downside had been when her Dad confiscated her phone again and would be holding onto it for the rest of the night. She'd have to remember that he didn't approve of her texting as much as she was used to. "Grace is a cute kid."<p>

"Yes, she is," Steve agreed, taking his keys out of his pocket. Dinner had gone great, the girls had gotten along very well despite their age difference, and Alex had acted more like the Alex he knew. She'd been respectful, polite, funny, and had only gotten mad at him once – when he'd taken her cell phone after she had started texting during the middle of dinner. He wasn't opposed to texting but he did have a serious problem with the amount of time she spent typing messages on her phone. Did teenagers ever have actual conversations anymore?

He unlocked his truck and they both climbed in. "I'm glad you had a good time. I know it wasn't quite the birthday celebration you would have preferred." He turned the key in the ignition.

"It's okay, Dad," Alex told him. "Really, it is. Besides, I celebrated with my friends before I left."

Looking over at her, Steve asked, "Is Brian one of those friends?"

Alex laughed. "You're kinda obsessed with Brian, don't ya think?" Ever since her phone call earlier, he had asked her about Brian three different times.

"I'm not obsessed," he told her, handing his parking voucher and a five-dollar bill to the parking attendant. "I just like to know who your friends are, especially the boys."

Alex rolled her eyes. "Well you should already know who he is since you've met him before."

"I did?" Steve asked her, taking his change from the attendant and thanking him. "When?"

"On that field trip to the Tacoma Nature Center that you chaperoned," she told him. All she could really remember about the trip was that they studied the animals and plants that inhabited the forest. She couldn't recall exactly what animals they discovered or what plants they studied. What she did remember most was that her dad had surprised her by knocking on their apartment door the night before the field trip and told her he would be going on the trip with her.

Steve thought for a moment. "You expect me to remember a kid I met when you were in the 3rd grade?" He turned the car right onto the road.

"I thought the house was the other way," Alex commented, looking at Steve, confused.

"It is," he acknowledged, "but we have one more stop to make first." He gave her a sly smile but wouldn't say anything more.

"Okay," she said, brushing his secretiveness off with a shrug. "If the reason you are asking all kinds of questions about him is because you think I like him as more than a friend, don't. Brian's like a brother to me."

"Well, good," Steve replied. _One less thing to worry about._

They continued chatting about a variety of topics, including Alex's friends and Cindy's current boyfriend – Alex didn't like him but wouldn't say why – until they pulled to a stop near the beach. Looking out the window, Alex saw a food stand of some sort and a bunch of picnic tables under some umbrellas. Then she recognized the car parked in front of them. "Where are we and why is Uncle Danny's car here?"

Steve smiled at her but didn't answer her questions. "C'mon, let's go."

As she got out of the truck, she could make out a group of people huddled around one of the tables. As they approached the stand, a man who Alex thought looked like a sumo wrestler saw them and spoke up. "You brought your mini-me. About time, brah!" Alex looked up at her dad, not quite sure what to make of the man wearing a blue t-shirt with his own face on it. Steve smiled, reassuringly.

"Hey," Steve greeted, stopping in front of the truck where Kamekona stood. Standing behind her, Steve put his hands on his daughter's shoulders. "Kamekona, meet my daughter, Alexandra."

"Like I said, brah, your mini-me," Kamekona returned, before greeting the girl. "Aloha, Alexandra."

Sticking her hand out to shake his, she replied, "Uh, nice to meet you, Sir."

"So, Kamekona, are we all set or -" Steve asked, looking past him towards the tables.

"It's all good, brah," Kamekona answered. "Hey, Little McGarrett, they're all here for you," he continued, pointing behind him at the group of people.

Looking past him, Alex looked again at the group of people she noticed earlier. As they all turned in her direction, she recognized Danny, Grace, Kono, and Chin and on the table between them was a cake, candles lit and burning bright. That explained why Danny and Grace had left the restaurant twenty minutes before they had. Looking up at her dad, she said, "You got me a cake?"

Steve nodded, smiling. "The celebration isn't over yet, sweetheart."

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry I couldn't get this ready before you got here," Steve told his daughter as they put a fresh set of sheets on the bed. They had gotten home from Kamekona's about an hour ago and, while Alex went to change her clothes, he had started working on clearing some space in the bedroom. Although he had designated the room as office space for himself, he didn't use it very often, and, instead, had used it to store boxes and items he had yet to go through from the move. As a result, it was cluttered and unkempt.<p>

They had moved some boxes out of the way, having put them on top of his father's old desk that Steve rarely used and now there was a clear path to the bed. After that, he had helped Alex unpack her bags and put her clothes away in the dresser that his sister Mary had used both growing up and the last time she was in Hawaii. After seeing what she had packed, he realized how much Alex would need to get when he took her shopping. It was just one more thing he added to the to-do list in his head, which was growing longer by the minute. Having realized belatedly that he probably had never washed the sheets after Mary last slept in the bed, he had to go search the linen closet for another set of twin sized sheets. He wasn't going to let Alex sleep on sheets that hadn't been washed in seven months and, fortunately, there had been another set of sheets.

"It's okay, Dad," Alex reassured him, yet again. "You didn't exactly plan on being framed for murder."

Tucking in the last corner of the fitted sheet, he questioned her. "Did your Mom tell you that?" When the warrant had been issued for his arrest, he had asked Danny to call Cindy to inform her of the situation in the event that he was arrested. At that time he had no idea how long he would be imprisoned and if he didn't get out on time Alex wouldn't be able to come visit. Danny later told him that Cindy had agreed to Steve's request to not tell their daughter the details of his arrest.

Alex laughed. "Yeah, right." She grabbed the flat sheet off of the chair and threw one end towards him. "All she told me was that you got arrested so I looked it up online."

As they put the sheet on the bed, he lectured her. "Your Mom didn't tell you the specifics for a reason," he told her. "She was doing what I asked her to do." Smoothing out the sheet, he continued, "I didn't want you to know."

"Why?"

He tossed her a pillow and pillowcase, then, taking the second pillow and putting a pillowcase on it, he explained. "Because I'm your father and it's my job to protect you."

Alex stopped in mid-motion, the pillowcase only halfway on, and looked at him. It was moments like this where their relationship was easy, when she felt that he really did love her. If only she could feel like this all the time. If only she could go one whole day without that feeling of doubt creeping into her conscience. Maybe being here this summer would change all of that. "Okay," she said, finishing with the pillow and setting it on the bed. "But wouldn't you have done the same thing?"

"No," Steve answered her, tossing the second pillow next to the first. "When I was your age, the Internet wasn't available like it is today."

"That's not what I –"

Steve interrupted her. "It doesn't matter what I would have or would not have done. The point is that when your mother and I keep something from you it's because it's for your own good." He moved to the night stand and flipped the lamp on. Then he turned the overhead light off.

"Okay, Dad," she conceded. "I get it."

Steve moved towards the door. "Good."

"So, can I get my phone back now?"

Stopping in the doorway, he turned to face her. Shaking his head, "No, you can have it back tomorrow morning."

"But –" she started to protest.

"No 'buts' Alex," he told her, leaning back against the door jamb and crossing his arms. "Two rules: One," he said, holding up his index finger. "No talking or texting after nine o'clock. And, two," he continued, holding up another finger, "your cell phone needs to be turned off at night."

Alex just stared at him. Seriously? At home, her Mom didn't care about how much she used her phone, but that may have had something to do with the fact that Cindy was practically attached to her own phone. Alex never got in trouble for texting or talking, she certainly had never even had her phone confiscated by her mother either. But, then again, her parents had always enforced different sets of rules. Still, Mom's rules were the ones she was most familiar with.

Steve looked at his daughter as she stared at him in disbelief. "I know your Mom probably doesn't have any rules regarding your cell phone, but you're in my house now," he told her. "You're going to have to live with my rules now. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir," Alex replied. _For now. _

"Alright," Steve said, uncrossing his arms. "You going to bed now or…?" She should be tired after her day of traveling and with the time change it was nearly 1 am in Seattle.

"I need to grab my book first," Alex told him, moving towards the door. They walked downstairs and Steve went to the kitchen while Alex headed to the couch where she had dropped her backpack earlier in the day. Opening the bag, Alex pulled out a book, missing the piece of folded notebook paper that fell onto the floor. She left the bag unzipped, stuck the book under her arm, and headed to the kitchen, where she grabbed a bottle of water out of the near empty fridge.

"What are you reading?" Steve asked his daughter, noting the typical signs of a well-read book: edges worn, torn back cover, and some dog-eared pages.

Taking a drink, she held up the book for him to see.

"Harry Potter," Steve read, setting his bottle of beer on the counter. "Is that the one about vampires and werewolves?"

Alex laughed, almost choking on her water. "No, that's Twilight. This is about the boy wizard." Putting the cap back on the bottle, she continued, "You know it's like the highest grossing book and film series on the planet."

"Oh," Steve said, "right." He really had no clue.

"You've never read them or seen any of the movies, have you?"

Steve shook his head 'no', taking another sip of his beer.

"Well, you should," Alex recommended. "They're really good and the last movie comes out in July." She walked over to him. "Maybe we can watch them together some time," she suggested. Setting her book and the water on the counter, she hugged her father. "Thanks for today, Dad."

"You're welcome, sweetheart," Steve said, kissing the top of her head.

Picking up her book and water, she headed towards the stairs. "Good night, Dad."

Turning around to look at her, he replied, "Good night. I love you, Alex."

Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, she looked at him, smiled, and meeting his eye, she said, "Love you, too, Dad."

An hour later, when Steve was finally ready to call it a night, he threw his beer bottle in the garbage and turned off the kitchen light. Then, as he headed over to pick up the backpack Alex had left on the couch, he spotted a piece of notebook paper on the floor. Picking it up, he unfolded it and was surprised to discover a colorful, handwritten list. Written in different color pens, and with hearts and flowers doodled in the margins, was a list titled "Things to do with Dad". He scanned the list:

1) Go ziplining

2) Visit Diamond Head

3) Go see the petroglyphs (the ones Grandpa took me to see)

4) Go to Nuuanu Pali Lookout

5) Go rock climbing

6) Hiking and rapelling

7) Go snorkeling at Hanauma Bay

8) See the Buddhist Temple at Valley of the Temples

9) Ask Dad to tell me about our family ties to Pearl Harbor

10) Hike to Makapuu Point Lighthouse

11) Other heritage sites?

12) Visit grandpa

13) Take the mule ride up to Kalaupapa National Historic Site on Molokai

14) Maybe visit the other islands?

15) Go to a luau

16) See Kilauea

17) Go camping?

18) Have Dad teach me to throw a football the right way

19) Cook together

20) Go on a picnic

21) Tell Dad

It was a pretty exhaustive list, that was for sure. They had always had a few common interests, but, based on the list, it sounded like Alex had developed more of an adventuresome spirit since the last time he saw her, one that mimicked his own. He wondered when she had written this list and what she meant by "tell Dad"? Tell him what?

Putting the list back in the backpack, he zipped it closed and shut off the light. He carried the bag upstairs and into his daughter's room, where the light was still on. Alex had fallen asleep reading, the book resting on her chest. Stepping lightly across the room, he set her backpack on top of the desk and then picked up the book, careful not to wake her. Dog-earing the page to mark her spot, he set it on the night stand and turned out the light. He spent several minutes just watching her sleep. Finally, he went to bed, content with how the day had turned out and looking forward to spending time with his daughter in the weeks to come.


	3. Chapter 3

Opening his eyes, Steve rolled over and glanced at the clock. He stretched, got out of bed and pulled a t-shirt over his head. Walking down the stairs, he was surprised to see Alex sitting at the table, flipping through a magazine, an empty bowl in front of her. "It's five – what are you doing up?" he asked her, yawning.

"Mornin', Dad," she replied, looking up at him. "I'm usually up this early." Tilting her head towards the kitchen, she said, "Coffee's already made."

Steve shuffled into the kitchen. "You drink coffee?"

Alex shook her head. "No, Sir. I made it for you." She stood up and carried her bowl into the kitchen. "I wasn't sure how strong you like it so it might not taste any good." Grabbing the dish rag and soap from under the sink, she proceeded to wash her bowl, spoon, and a small pan, and then put them in the dish strainer. Steve filled a cup of coffee, added some cream to it, and tasted it.

Leery, she asked him, "Is it okay?" He really didn't drink it black? She always assumed he had, like nearly every other adult she knew. Even Mom drank hers black. Weird.

Steve nodded. "Perfect," he told her, smiling. "What did you eat?"

"Oatmeal," she answered. The way she said it told him she wasn't happy with her breakfast of choice.

Leaning back against the counter, he said, "I thought you liked oatmeal."

"I do," she said, covering her mouth to stifle a yawn. "But not when it's 80 degrees outside."

"You could have had cereal," he told her, taking another sip of his coffee.

She gave him a strange look. "Not with the milk you have in the fridge."

He smiled sheepishly. "Right. No Lactaid." Alex was lactose intolerant and had been for over ten years. She had been diagnosed a year before he and Cindy had split up. It had been an adjustment at first, figuring out what Alex's system could and could not tolerate but, after awhile, it had become second nature to buy items she could consume without getting sick. Even years after Cindy had taken Alex to Seattle, he would find himself buying lactose-free products. Eventually he returned to buying regular dairy products but he'd always been good at ensuring he had lactose-free items available for Alex. Until now. He couldn't believe he had forgotten to pick up a carton of milk for her.

"Or Soy milk," she told him. "I'll drink either one." Picking at a scab on her arm, she continued, "You do realize that you pretty much have no food here, right?" After starting the pot of coffee earlier, she had looked through the cabinets and refrigerator. The cupboards were pretty bare – she had seen rice, pasta, a loaf of wheat bread, peanut butter and two boxes of cereal, along with a couple of other items – and the refrigerator contained beer, water, a carton of milk, eggs, and condiment bottles. At least the freezer had some chicken and hamburger meat in it.

"Leave that alone," Steve instructed, nodding his head towards her arm. Setting his mug down on the counter, he opened the cupboard and pulled out a box of Cheerios. As he made himself a bowl of cereal, he continued. "It's just been me, Alex, and with my schedule it's usually easiest for me just to grab a bite to eat on my way home." Putting the milk back in the fridge, he leaned back against the counter and began to eat. "Tell you what, though," he said, with his mouth half-full, "tonight after work we'll go grocery shopping. Okay?"

"Okay," she replied, walking back to the table and picking up her magazine. "Would it be okay if I go down to the beach today or for a jog through the neighborhood?" She already knew she'd be home alone today and having nothing to do all day was going to drive her crazy. She really didn't feel like reading all day – she'd already read the two books she brought with her multiple times – and watching TV all day just wasn't an option. She had to always be doing something active and, as a result, it was rare for her to sit still through any show in its entirety. In the past, she had even annoyed her friends on multiple occasions by bouncing her legs or tapping her fingers in the middle of the movie theater and, several times, she had been in trouble with her mother for not sitting still. Besides, she'd always preferred being outdoors over being cooped up inside.

Steve thought for a few moments. "You can go down to the beach out back but I don't want you leaving the yard." Drinking some more coffee, he continued, "And as for the jog, no, not yet, not by yourself."

On the counter, Steve's phone started to vibrate. Picking it up, he answered, "McGarrett."

* * *

><p>"So, buddy," Danny started, sitting in the passenger seat of his car, "how'd the rest of the night go?" He and Steve were headed to a residence in Kamehameha Heights to interview the wife of Raul Gonzales, the man whose body was found washed up, riddled with bullet holes, on Ewa Beach that morning. Having been only identifiable through fingerprints, they discovered that their victim had an arrest record from California. His list of priors included possession of a controlled substance, petty theft, and breaking and entering, all of which occurred eight years ago. Records showed that Gonzales moved to Honolulu five years ago and, until now, had stayed off of law enforcement radar.<p>

"Good, I guess," Steve answered. "She wasn't happy that I wouldn't give her phone back to her until this morning, but, other than that, it went well."

"That's great," Danny told him. "And, here you were, stressing about it."

Steve glanced at him, giving him a look. "I was not stressing," he told him. "I do not get stressed."

"Whatever you say, buddy," Danny replied, allowing Steve his moment of denial. What Steve had said was only partially true; when it came to having a gunfight, jumping off of buildings, or running from a building rigged to blow up – anything, really, that came with the job – Steve showed no signs of stress. He thrived on it. But, a few times when Steve had actually opened up about his daughter to him – usually after something the girl had said to Danny on the phone or Steve had received a call from Cindy – Steve would start to stress, whether he realized it or not. He worried about Alex – as any father should worry about their child – and when Cindy had called him up two weeks ago to tell him she would be putting their daughter on a plane to spend the summer with him, Steve had again gotten stressed, Danny could tell. It got even worse after he had been set up for the murder of Laura Hills and then, subsequently, arrested.

Although Steve never vocalized it, Danny felt that Steve was overly self-critical when it came to his abilities as a father. Danny supposed he would be the same way if Rachel ever talked to him the way Cindy talked to Steve. According to Steve, he rarely spoke with Alex's mother on the phone – email was another matter entirely – but on the few times Danny had overheard their conversation Cindy was screaming at Steve, calling him all sorts of names, and criticizing him for matters that were out of his control. Danny had even directly heard Cindy's verbal assault toward Steve – when he'd called to tell her about Steve's arrest – and, frankly, was shocked by some of the things she had said about him.

Sure, Danny would be the first to admit that Steve had his problems, but to treat him the way Cindy did was simply uncalled for. He was the father of her daughter, after all. On further reflection, maybe Cindy's treatment of him was part of the reason Steve was the way he was. And, although, Danny did not know the details of Steve and Cindy's relationship – its good or bad points – Danny did not think Steve needed to worry so much about how Alex would take to being with him again. Clearly – not just from the couple of hours Danny observed the two together last night, but also from the conversations he'd had previously with Alex on the phone – the girl looked up to and enjoyed being with her dad.

"I do have to say though," Danny continued, "it's kind of nice seeing that side of you."

"What are you talking about, Danny?"

"The Dad side," Danny told him. "Big change from the whole Ninja-Rambo-G.I. Joe thing you usually have going on."

* * *

><p>"You're good to go, Commander McGarrett," the paramedic said as he applied the small Band-Aid to the cut above Steve's left eye. Steve thanked him and then headed over to the other ambulance, where Chin was getting worked on by a paramedic. What they thought would be an easy task had turned horribly wrong. It should have been a simple apprehension of the man wanted for questioning in the murder of Raul Gonzales. Instead, during their sweep of the man's house, they discovered a massive methamphetamine lab in the kitchen, an open flame sitting precariously near the apparatus. The team got out of the house in time, but just barely. Steve figured the house must have also been rigged to blow, due to there not only being a fire but also a subsequent explosion, the latter of which was the culprit for their injuries.<p>

"How you doin', Chin?" Steve asked. Where his own injuries consisted of a cut above his eye, a pounding headache and bruised ribs from hitting the ground, Chin's looked to be a little more serious. Before the paramedics arrived, Chin had had a piece of glass embedded in his right arm and an injured shoulder in addition to the expected cuts and bruises.

"I'm good, brah," Chin told him with a smile. The glass hadn't been embedded as deep as he had originally thought and his shoulder was just bruised. After a few stitches in his arm, he'd be good to go. "They okay?" he asked Steve, looking over at Danny and Kono, who were leaning against a police cruiser, talking to a couple of HPD officers.

"They're good," Steve answered. "You got the worst." He heard his phone ring, looked at the caller id and took the call.

"Commander McGarrett, what the hell just happened?" Governor Sam Denning's voice rang out over the phone.

* * *

><p>Satisfied with her work, Alex headed back upstairs to her room to relax for a bit. She had finally found something to do and had been so busy doing it for several hours she had even forgotten to eat lunch. Grabbing her iPod off the bed where she had tossed it earlier, she started scrolling through the playlists. Deciding on one, she started putting her ear buds in when the song "Anchors Aweigh" started blaring out of her cell phone.<p>

"You still like shrimp?" she heard her father ask when she answered her phone.

"Yes, Sir," she answered.

"Alright, good," Steve told her. "I'll be leaving in about half an hour; will you be ready if I text you when I get to the house?"

"Uh, sure," she replied, looking down at her now grungy clothes. Actually she could probably do with a shower. Having agreed to be ready when he got there, Steve hung up with her. Alex looked at the clock on the nightstand. She figured she had about fifty minutes before he would be texting her. She'd give herself half an hour to listen to some music and then she'd head to the shower.

* * *

><p>Having waited five minutes and still no sign of Alex, Steve got out of the truck and headed inside. Once inside he called for her and, hearing no response, headed upstairs. Stepping into the room, he saw his daughter dancing, an iPod in a runner's band on her arm, ear buds in her ears. She appeared to be dancing some previously choreographed dance routine and, from the looks of it, she had danced it before. Steve watched her for a few moments; she had no clue he was there. Finally, he approached her, touching her on the shoulder. She jumped, scared, and turned to face him. Pulling out an ear bud, she said, "Geez, Dad, you scared me." Noticing the Band-Aid, she asked, "What happened to your face?"<p>

He apologized for scaring her but didn't answer her question. Holding up his phone, he said, "I sent you a text."

Pulling out the other ear bud, she walked to the bed and picked up her phone. Looking at it, she apologized, "Sorry. I guess I got distracted."

Hearing the music blaring from her iPod, but not recognizing the song, he asked, "What are you listening to?"

"Bruno Mars," she replied, turning off the music and taking the runner's band off of her arm.

"Who?" Steve asked, before lecturing her, "You really shouldn't have the music that loud."

Alex rolled her eyes which earned her a look from Steve. Having finished wrapping the ear buds around the iPod she walked to her backpack and dropped the item inside of it. "Guess I don't have time to shower, do I?"

Steve shook his head. "Get dressed and I'll meet you downstairs." He left the room, pulling the door shut behind him. He headed back downstairs and checked the rest of the messages on his phone. Seeing three texts from Cindy, he decided to ignore them for now. After the day he had he was just not in the mood to deal with her. Sitting on the couch, he laid his head back. The two aspirin he had popped earlier had done absolutely nothing to help the pounding in his head. Sitting there, he glanced around the room. Something was different. His recliner was in a different spot than normal – not by much, but enough that he noticed – and that smell. It must have been the headache because it took him far too long to recognize the smell of a combination of cleaning products.

A few minutes later, when Alex joined him downstairs, they left the house. Locking the front door, Steve asked his daughter, "Did you clean today?"

"Yes, Sir," she answered. "I got –" She was interrupted by her phone ringing, this time a different song: Taio Cruz's "Dynamite". Answering it, she said, "Hey! How's it going?" She followed her father to the truck and climbed in. Putting her seatbelt on, she said, "Hey, can I call you back later? My dad and I are headed to dinner." She hung up a few minutes later and changed the setting on her phone to vibrate.

"Alyssa says to tell you 'hi'," Alex told Steve, sliding her phone into her jeans pocket. Alyssa Boyer had been the first person Alex had met when she moved to Seattle and they had been best friends ever since. She was probably the only friend of Alex's that her Dad remembered as he had Skyped with Alex on numerous occasions when Alyssa was there, had talked to both girls on the phone, and had even had dinner with Alyssa's family on a couple of occasions.

"When you talk to her, tell her I say 'hi' back," Steve replied, dropping his own cell phone into one of the cup holders in the center consul as he started driving. "So, you cleaned."

Alex nodded. "I was bored."

"What all did you clean?" He realized he had been very busy the last two weeks but, even still, the house was not that dirty, not even close.

Alex, distracted by a group of kids gathered on the sidewalk outside, answered absently. "Um, I swept and vacuumed, washed the windows, dusted, cleaned both bathrooms, and wiped down all the counters in the kitchen." She bent down to scratch the top of her foot. "Oh, and I fixed the towel bar in the upstairs bathroom."

Steve looked at her. Yet something else that had changed in his girl. "Who are you and what did you do with my daughter?"

"What do you mean?" Alex asked him, confusedly, sitting back up.

"Well," Steve started, looking up at the stop light, waiting for it to change. "The last time I saw you I had to constantly remind you to put your clothes in the hamper, wash your dishes, and hang your jacket up." The light having changed, he stepped on the gas and directed the car forward.

Her expression and tone changed from cheerful to serious. Alex sighed and said, "A lot can happen in two years, Dad." She chewed the inside of her cheek and looked out the window. "A lot can change in two years."

* * *

><p>Having just ordered, Steve and Alex handed the waitress their menus, thanked her, and then sipped their drinks – a beer for Steve and water for Alex. Sitting back in the booth, Alex looked over her father's shoulder and out at the beach across the street. Shrimp, sand, the beach, and spending time with her dad; it didn't get much better than this.<p>

Steve took another swig of his beer, his eye on his daughter. She had gotten quiet after her comment earlier and then refused to elaborate when he'd ask her about it. Something was going on with her and he didn't even have an inkling of what it could be. He hoped that one day she'd open up to him. Catching her eye, he smiled.

"Can we go running tomorrow?" Alex asked him, leaning forward and resting her arms on the table. "So you can show me the route you're comfortable with me taking?"

Setting his beer down, Steve observed, "You really want to go for a run, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir," Alex replied, her eyes lighting up in a way he hadn't seen in quite awhile. "I love to run."

That was news to him. "Really?"

Alex nodded. "Yes, Sir." She took a sip of her water. "Mom thinks it's stupid."

"Wha—" he started, confused. Why would Cindy – a woman who used to run regularly – tell their daughter it was stupid? "Why would she –"

She interrupted him, looking out the window again. "She doesn't do any of that stuff anymore, Dad." _She hasn't for a long time. _She shrugged, looking at him again. "She thinks it's dumb to run some place when you can just as easily take a car. She didn't even let me join the cross-country team at school."

Steve was quiet for a few minutes, looking at his daughter and thinking about Cindy. The Cindy he remembered – the Cindy he liked to remember – was the active woman who would go biking, hiking, and surfing with him, the way they had when they were 17 years old. Although their relationship was hostile now – and had been for quite some time – he hadn't realized that those parts of her no longer existed. He didn't realize Cindy kept their daughter from doing something she clearly enjoyed. It wasn't just his 14-year old who had changed the last few years, apparently her mother had, too.

"Do you think it's stupid?" His daughter's bluish-hazel eyes met his.

He shook his head. "If it's something you enjoy doing, then it can't be stupid." He leaned forward and smiled. "I like to run, too."

Alex returned his smile. "I do enjoy it, Dad. A lot. I want to be able to run a marathon one day." Grabbing her cell phone out of her pocket, she unlocked it and brought up the home screen. Looking at him, she said, "I'm not being rude; can I show you something?"

He nodded and was surprised when she got out of her seat and joined him on his side of the booth. Going to the web browser, she typed in a website, and scrolled until she found the item she was looking for. Showing him the picture, she started talking, excitedly. "I really want this watch – it's made by Nike – and it's for runners." Clicking on the picture to enlarge it, she continued, "It has a GPS in it that tracks your course when you're outside and it also has a sensor you can put in your shoe if you're in the gym." Clicking out of the picture and bring up another feature, she continued, "Then, you just plug the band into the USB port on your computer and it logs everything for you." Setting the phone down on the table, she looked at him and smiled. "It's so cool, don't you think?"

Seeing her excitement, he returned her smile, then pulling her close, kissed her on the head. "It is cool." He picked up her phone and took a better look at the watch. It certainly was pricey. Handing the phone back to her, he said, "So a marathon?"

She smiled again. "One day, I hope." She closed the browser on the phone and put it back in her pocket. "I want to do a half-marathon first, but I don't know if I can do it."

"Of course you can do it," he told her. "You can do anything you set your mind to."


	4. Chapter 4

Whatever trepidation Steve had felt prior to his daughter's visit had disappeared in the week since her arrival in Honolulu. With the exception of two arguments – he had caught her talking on the phone after midnight on two different occasions – Alex's first week in Hawaii had gone better than he had expected. Despite the numerous ways in which she had changed from two years ago – and despite the fact that she kept holding something back from him – he was pleased to realize that parts of that girl who had captured his heart 14 years ago were still there.

After their shrimp dinner on Tuesday night, they had gone grocery shopping. And, with only some amendments to the list Alex had made, Steve's refrigerator was fuller than it had been since he had returned to Oahu. He had expected to stock up on soda, potato chips, and candy – the normal teenage food requests – but instead had been surprised when Alex chose green tea and water for beverages and fresh fruits and vegetables for her snack items. All the while they were shopping they had chatted about healthy eating and fitness. She was very nutrition-conscious, more so than he or Cindy had ever been, especially at that age. Steve had been glad to hear that, in addition to running, he and Alex shared a mutual interest in hiking and biking.

On Wednesday morning, they had gone on a run before work, not just through their neighborhood but also along the beach, finishing in the backyard. At the end of their hour long run, Steve had guessed they had run just over 7 miles and, if Alex's endurance were any indication, he had absolutely no doubts in his mind that she definitely could run a half-marathon one day. He had breakfast ready when Alex got out of the shower and then he headed to work, leaving Alex to begin going through some of the boxes in her room. When he got home that night, Alex had surprised him by having dinner cooking on the stove and, after eating what he had felt was a rather tasty meal, they did the dishes. Then, while continuing work in Alex's room, Steve had been introduced to this Bruno Mars person that Alex had been dancing to the day before.

After another early morning run on Thursday, Steve had headed to work, dropping Alex off at the local library on the way. She had signed up for a library card and then spent the morning reading and using the library's computer to check her email, before Chin had surprised her, picking her up and bringing her back to the office for lunch with the whole team. After lunch, under the watchful eye of Jenna Kaye, Alex had camped out in Steve's office, reading one of the books – To Kill a Mockingbird – she had borrowed from the library, while the rest of the 5-O team had gone to the Marine Corps Base to interview a couple of individuals regarding the disappearance of a Naval Recruiter. After work Steve took his daughter clothes shopping to pick up the swimsuit and other items she needed. Then he took her to buy a bicycle and, after arguing with him – she told him it was a waste of money for 12 weeks of use and he told her that they'd be putting a lot of miles on it – she capitulated, picking out a purple Huffy 24" Granite Mountain Bike that Steve ended up getting on sale, thanks to his military discount.

On Friday, Steve and 5-O caught an early case – at 5 a.m. – so Steve had given Alex permission to go for a run by herself, in daylight, as long as she stuck to the course they had been running and would call him as soon as she was back home. After letting him know she was back home and locked in, she started going through her grandfather's things that were in her room. A couple hours later, after their case was transferred to HPD, Steve headed home, picked up Alex, and then headed to Naval Station Pearl Harbor to get Alex a dependent military ID card. Even though she had been eligible to receive one when she turned 10, Steve finally felt that she would be with him long enough to possibly require its use. Afterwards, he'd taken her to the Pearl Harbor Memorial and to see some of the battleships in the harbor. Then, they headed to Danny's apartment to watch the Yankees take on the Mariners and, due to the Yankees losing and Danny having to uphold his end of the bet, Danny would now have to wear a Mariners t-shirt on a day of Alex's choosing.

Early Saturday morning, Steve took his daughter Zip-lining, where she made sure to take pictures at every station, and then for a bike ride through Manoa Valley. After a picnic lunch, they strolled through the Lyon Arboretum at the University of Hawaii, Manoa Campus. Then, at Alex's insistence, they took the .8 mile hike up to Manoa Falls, stopping along the way to, again, take pictures. Her excitement, bright smile and contagious laugh supported her claim about it being "the best day ever". Finally, tired and sweaty, they headed home, where they spent the remainder of the weekend working in Alex's room.

By Sunday afternoon it actually resembled a bedroom, with the desk, dresser and bed set up to Alex's preference and the boxes and extra items moved to the garage. While they relaxed in the backyard, eating dinner, he had talked to her about calling him 'Sir'. While he and Cindy had raised her to be respectful of adults – addressing them as 'Sir' or 'Ma'am' or by their last names – he could not understand why she had suddenly picked up the habit of addressing him the same way. Alex had explained to him that Cindy had started encouraging – in fact, demanded – that she start calling her 'Ma'am' when answering a question with yes or no, and Alex thought that rule would apply to him as well. Not entirely understanding, Steve had assured her that it did not, and that, as her father, all he ever expected her to call him was Dad.

Heading into work on Monday, Steve was happy and pleased with how things were going. Cindy hadn't sent him any nasty emails or requested to speak to him on the phone since Tuesday, he was getting to know his daughter all over again, and he was actually getting to be a dad again – in every sense of the word. He knew there was still a lot he had to discover about the teenage Alex, and he acknowledged that things between them wouldn't always go as well as they had been, but as of that morning, everything was going perfectly.

Until now.

Ten minutes ago Steve had received a phone call from HPD, informing him of a reported break-in at his home. HPD was en-route to the house and Steve, concerned about Alex's welfare, had dropped the paperwork he was working on, and left the office. Now, thanks to today being an administrative day thus far –all paperwork; no active cases – he and Danny, with Chin and Kono in the vehicle behind them, were racing to the house, sirens blaring and lights flashing. Steve kept dialing his daughter's cell phone but, as of yet, had not received a response. He knew she had planned on going for a run this morning and he was hoping that she had either left her cell phone in the house or couldn't hear it over her iPod. Yet, for some reason, he had a nauseating sense of foreboding.

* * *

><p>When they arrived at the house, Steve rushed inside, his eyes searching for his daughter. "Alex!" He yelled, pushing his way past the two officers outside the front door. Inside, he approached Officer Chris Scanlon, a man Steve had gone to high school with, and asked, "Where's my daughter?"<p>

Officer Scanlon greeted Steve and looked around the house, noticing the lack of family photos. He didn't even know Steve had a daughter. "Your daughter?"

"Yes," Steve told him, impatiently. "Alexandra. Is she here?" Behind Steve, Danny pulled out his phone and started calling the girl. Chin and Kono were speaking with the officers at the door, one of whom was dusting for prints.

Officer Scanlon shook his head. "No, Steve, she's not. No one was here when we arrived." He proceeded to tell Steve that HPD had a received a call from one of Steve's neighbors, elderly Ms. Danielson, that she had noticed Steve's front door wide open while walking her dog. Although she couldn't see anyone inside, and hadn't seen anyone suspicious outside, she had a bad feeling so she reported it. Ms. Danielson had not mentioned anything about Steve's daughter either. "Obviously," Officer Scanlon said, swinging his arm around in the space, "nothing is in disarray but can you tell if anything is missing?"

Looking around, Steve noticed that nothing looked like it had been ransacked through. In fact, it looked like no one had even stepped foot inside the house. Glancing again at the end table near the front door, Steve's eye caught Alex's iPod. If she had gone running, then why was her iPod in the house? He walked over to the device and picked it up.

"That was found in the grass outside," Officer Scanlon told him.

Noticing the cracked screen, Steve swallowed the lump in his throat and told him, "It's my daughters."

Officer Scanlon made a note in his notebook. "Is there anywhere she could be? Any friends she might be visiting?"

Sitting down on the couch, Steve tried to remain calm. Shaking his head, he replied, "No. She just got here last week. She's only here for the summer." Steve looked at Danny who shook his head. Still no response from Alex.

"She's not here?" Kono asked, stepping into the house with her cousin. Steve just shook his head.

"We'll make a sweep of the neighborhood," Chin said, noticing the iPod. "Maybe she just didn't feel like music today." He left with Kono.

_Then why is the screen broken?_ Steve thought to himself. Officer Scanlon was talking to another officer and, when finished, he turned back towards Steve. "There are no fingerprints on the door and no evidence it was opened with force." Holding up a key, he continued, "One of the officers just found this in the grass. Is it –"

"It's Alex's." Steve knew for sure it was hers because of the white paint spot Alex had added to it to distinguish it from the key she had to the apartment in Seattle.

Danny's phone began to ring. "It's her." Steve rushed over and took the phone from Danny, turning the speaker phone on.

"Alex, where are you?" There was no response to his question. Instead, he could hear his daughter asking someone – who? – where they were taking her. Then she started screaming that she wanted to go home.

From the background, they heard a man's voice. "Is that a cell phone?"

Then they heard Alex's voice, hurried, scared. "We're in a van, Uncle Danny. He has a gun."

They heard a commotion and then the sound of flesh being punched.

"Alex!" Steve screamed.

They heard a whimper, then the phone went dead.

* * *

><p>"Steve," Danny said, nudging his friend with his arm. In the five minutes that had passed since they lost communication with Alex, Danny had watched Steve react in a way he had never thought possible. Steve had fallen back onto the couch, clutching Danny's phone, a look of sheer terror on his face. He watched as Steve went into a daze, clearly oblivious to Officer Scanlon's urgent phone call to HPD and Danny's own call to Kono, telling her and Chin to return to the house. The Super Seal was no longer; in his place, was Steve McGarrett: concerned, terrified, and shaken father.<p>

Feeling the touch, Steve looked at Danny, who nodded towards Officer Scanlon. Her abduction met the criteria necessary for issuance of a Maile Amber Alert and Officer Scanlon had been trying to get information about Alex to release with the alert. Steve turned his attention to Officer Scanlon.

"Do you have a picture of Alexandra?" Hearing the question, but not really thinking about it, Steve pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and opened it. Taking the lone picture out, he handed it to Officer Scanlon.

"So, she's, what, nine or ten?" Officer Scanlon said, looking at the picture.

"Uh," Steve said, realizing his mistake._ Focus, Steve. Alex needs you to be alert. Pay attention._ His hands started to shake. He'd dealt with a lot in his life – death, torture, being shot, countless injuries – and he had been trained to handle those. But the Navy, the Seals, had never prepared him for this.

Danny came to his aid. Pulling up a picture on his cell phone, he showed it to Officer Scanlon. "This is more recent; it was taken on Friday night."

"Great," Scanlon answered. "Can you send us a copy of that? We'll release it with the alert." He turned his attention back to Steve, handing him back the photo. "Steve, we need to know as much as we can – height, weight, age, hair and eye color."

Steve nodded. He knew all this. He'd dealt with missing person reports before. _Get your act together._ "She's 14, DOB May 16th, 97." Expelling a breath he stood up and started to pace. "Brown hair just past her shoulders, hazel eyes, but they change color based on what she's wearing. She's – uh – five-six-and-a-half, about a hundred and eight pounds." Stopping, he ran a hand over his face. "Oh, hell, I need to call her mother."

"What about her clothes?" Officer Scanlon prompted. "Any idea what she was wearing?"

Steve thought back to that morning's breakfast. Confident, he answered, "Pink shorts and a white t-shirt that says 'Mount Rainier Academy'. Her shoes are gray and pink Nike's." He brushed a shaky hand through his hair. He didn't understand how this could be happening right now. Who would take his daughter and why?

* * *

><p>"She won't get in trouble, Alyssa," Steve reassured the girl on the phone. "I just really need to know if she has one." Earlier, as soon as Steve had finished giving Officer Scanlon details for the missing person's report and HPD had left the house, he had insisted on returning to headquarters with Danny, Chin and Kono. Even though he knew HPD would be tracing Alex's cell phone, issuing the missing person's report, and searching for his daughter, Steve was going to launch his own investigation – with or without help from his team – and he would not stop until Alex was found.<p>

On the way back to the office, Steve had tried numerous times to reach Cindy on her cell phone, but each call had gone to voicemail, causing him to be pissed off even more. Losing his cool was not something Steve was known for and, seeing him that way, had caused Chin to pretty much drag him into his office to cool off. Steve was understandably upset and worried but if Steve was going to be of any help to his daughter – and 5-O's pursuit of the case – then he needed to have a clear head. Not that anyone expected it to be easy.

As Danny had gone to brief Governor Denning on the situation, and Kono was working on tracing Alex's cell phone, Steve and Chin had discussed theories about the kidnapping. The only logical explanation was that it was random, but, to be sure, they wanted to see if anyone had contacted Alex prior to the abduction. Prior to joining the 5-O taskforce, Chin had worked a couple of missing person cases, and, in a few of those cases involving teenagers, social networking had been found to be a connection between the abductor and the victim. This conversation led Steve to contacting his daughter's best friend, to determine if Alex had a Facebook or other social network account. He sensed that his daughter probably had an account, despite Cindy's strict rule against it. He figured the person who would know best was his daughter's best friend. After informing her parents of the situation, and after they had broken the news to their daughter, he had been given permission to speak with Alyssa.

"Ms. Aberdeen told Alex she couldn't have a Facebook page," Alyssa told him, still finding it hard to believe what her parents had only told her a few minutes ago. Her best friend had been kidnapped; how was that possible? "But," she continued, "she got one anyway."

His hunch confirmed, Steve looked back at the computer screen. "I figured she did." Typing his daughters name in the search box for the third time, he continued, "I've searched for her name but nothing is coming up."

"That's because her account is private," Alyssa explained, "and it's not even listed under her real name. She said something about OPSEC, whatever that is."

Steve cracked a smile. OPSEC, or Operational Security, was used to deny adversaries information that could either benefit them or harm you. In the military, OPSEC involved not advertising details on dates or locations of unit deployments, on security procedures, or on detailed information about unit assignments, among other things. Steve was well versed on OPSEC procedures and, on a couple of occasions when Alex had asked him about his job, had explained to her about OPSEC and its' importance. He'd even used it as an example for when she had complained to him that Cindy wouldn't let her get a Facebook account. He had told her that his only reservation about social networking was her privacy. He told her, that if she did get an account, she needed to be extra careful about what she posted. He didn't want her posting her address, phone number, or befriending anyone online that she didn't know. He just never thought she'd actually apply his OPSEC talk to her Facebook account.

"I know her password," Alyssa told him, "just like she knows mine". Thanking her, Steve typed Alex's email address into the login box and then typed the password Alyssa gave him. After clicking the login button, Alex's page opened and Steve was greeted by a picture of the two of them from their Zip-lining adventure on Saturday. For a minute, he forgot he was on the phone as he stared at the picture.

"Mr. McGarrett?" Alyssa's tearful voice brought him out of his reverie.

"Yeah?" he said, clearing his throat.

"They're gonna find her, right?"

He gave himself a moment to respond. "I hope so, Alyssa, I hope so."

"Me too," the girl replied. "She was so happy to be with you again and…" the girl trailed off, starting to cry, before her father took the phone from her.

"Steve," Charles Boyer said, "if there's anything we can do –"

"Thanks," Steve replied, glancing at his phone to see an incoming text message from Cindy. Why was it so hard for her to understand the words "call me back"?

* * *

><p>"I can stay," Danny said, for what was probably the tenth time in twenty minutes. They were at Steve's house, after Danny had finally convinced Steve to leave the office and head home. He was worried about his friend and, no matter how many times Steve insisted he was okay, he knew the truth. He could only imagine what Steve was going through – the emotions he was feeling – and he'd be an emotional wreck if it were him. So he had chosen to follow Steve home.<p>

"You don't need to babysit me, Danny," Steve said, arms crossed in defiance. "Seriously, I'll be okay."

"Steven," Danny started to protest.

Steve shook his head. "Drive to Rachel's and hug Grace," he said. "That's what you should be doing right now."

A couple of minutes later, when Danny finally decided to leave, Steve stood in the middle of his living room, listening to the sound of the waves, and reflecting on the rest of the day. After receiving Cindy's text, he had hung up with the Boyers, and then, frustrated, called Cindy. Telling her that their daughter had been abducted at gunpoint was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. She had to have known that and, yet, Cindy still managed to find a way to make it worse. He had expected her to freak out and tell him that she'd find a flight out of Paris but, instead, all she had said – after basically blaming him for Alex's abduction – was that she had confidence he would bring their daughter home. Not exactly the situation he had hoped to be in when she decided to have faith in him again. His conversation with her had angered him. If situations were reversed, he would've been on the first flight out, headed towards Alex, to help with the investigation.

Then, to make matters worse, Alex's phone had last pinged off of a tower in Kaneohe and, during a search of the area, HPD had located the device – in pieces – on the Kamehameha Highway. While Alex had provided information about being in a van, the description was vague, slowing down the investigation. Steve had received assurance from Officer Scanlon that they had their best detectives on the case and would not rest until Alex was found. Still, Steve knew the statistics – he knew the reasons that many teenage girls were abducted – and they made him sick. No amount of assurances could quell the fact that a man took his daughter, hurt her, and most likely wouldn't hesitate to hurt her again.

Expelling a worried breath, Steve picked up Alex's iPod from the kitchen counter where he had left it, and headed upstairs. Bypassing his own room, he headed to Alex's. Standing in the doorway, he became very aware of how wrong this all was; it was too quiet. His girl should be here, laughing or dancing or talking on the phone. She should be here, safe with him. Instead, she was God knows where, going through God knows what.

He set Alex's iPod on top of the desk, along with the laptop he had brought from work. Turning around, he saw the book Alex had been reading only that morning – was it really just this morning? – and her pajamas on the bed. Seeing a notebook and small photo album on the nightstand, he kicked off his shoes, and sat on her bed. There he spent the rest of the night looking at photos of Alex, flipping through the notebook, and perusing her Facebook page.

* * *

><p>In the corner of a small, darkened room, Alex sat, also holding a photo. The blood on her face had dried hours ago, and the pain in her ribs had finally dulled to a throbbing, as long as she didn't move too much. After being brought here, the man with the gun had untied her hands, but not before putting some kind of handcuff around her ankle and securing her to something across the room she couldn't quite make out in the dark. Although she couldn't get up and run away, like she would have attempted to do, at least her hands were free, allowing her to pull the oft-looked at picture out of her shorts pocket. She knew she had two choices: sit here and cry about her injuries and situation or be strong and figure out a way to make it out of here alive and back to her dad. Only one made sense to her. Having the photo in her hands gave her the strength and confidence she would need to stick with her decision.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

It was now Thursday, three days after Alex had been kidnapped, and to Steve, it had been the longest three days of his life. His face now had more stubble than he'd ever allowed and the weary look on his face told his friends he hadn't slept since her disappearance. Still, like his typical self, Steve had thrown himself into his work; the only difference being that, this time, work consisted of trying to find Alex. Thanks to Danny having spoken to Governor Denning on Monday, the Governor had vowed to not send any cases to the 5-O team, at least during the initial days of Alex being missing. He acknowledged that McGarrett would be distracted, and rightfully so, and, although he had not given permission to the team to launch their own investigation into the girl's disappearance, he had a feeling they would and had yet to stop them.

During the day, Steve launched himself into trying to make some headway in the case, even though HPD kept falling short on all leads that were sent their way. Steve and his team hadn't made any progress either, and it frustrated him to no end. It just didn't make any sense that she could have disappeared without anyone seeing her.

He spent his nights in Alex's room, sometimes just sitting there, other times holding onto a t-shirt or necklace of hers or looking at the photo album – anything, really, to feel her presence again. She'd only been at his house for a week before she had been abducted, but in that short week Steve had grown used to the sounds of having her around again. It amazed him how quickly her presence had changed the balance of things, how it had changed him. Everything had changed during that week, and he missed it. He missed her so much it pained him and he wanted her back.

When he wasn't working or spending time in Alex's room, he was on her Facebook page, becoming overwhelmed by the level of support being expressed by well-wishers. On Monday night, Steve had logged into Alex's account to find that Alex had been tagged in a status update of Alyssa's, in which the girl had invited everyone to join a group titled "Bring Alex Home". Alyssa had started the group, informing everyone of Alex's disappearance, and asking for thoughts and prayers to help bring her best friend home. From the encouraging comments on both the group page and on Alex's personal page, Steve had drawn strength and hope, and had even posted a message, thanking everyone for their support. He hoped Alex knew how many people cared about her and were hoping she would come home soon.

If Alex were to see how much time he had been spending on her Facebook page – looking at her pictures, reading her status updates – she would call him obsessed. She'd probably even be mad at him for snooping but, right now, he didn't care. At this point, he actually looked forward to being able to have that argument with her. He was drawn to her page; he just couldn't help it. Her account had only been opened a couple of months ago, and most of the status updates she had posted consisted of quotes and song lyrics; whether they had anything to do with her mood at that time or not, he couldn't be sure. The most recent update had been on Saturday night, when she'd reiterated what she had told him about it being the best day ever.

Even though he'd already looked through the multitude of pictures she had posted of her and her friends, he was looking at them again as he sat at the desk in his office. He'd always loved his daughter, but looking at her pictures while she was missing, reminded him of the hours after she was born. It had taken Cindy an extended amount of time to wake up from the general anesthesia used in the emergency C-section and, as a result, Steve had been the first to bond with Alex. The nurses had let him hold her for as long as he wanted and he remembered just staring, for what seemed like hours, at the most beautiful and perfect thing he had ever seen. Looking at her pictures now, he still felt she was the most beautiful girl in the world and there was no doubt in his mind that Alex was the most perfect thing he had ever done in his life. He just didn't understand why it took something like this happening for him to realize he had taken her for granted and to be reminded of how much he loved that girl.

He had just opened an album of pictures taken on the Seattle Ferry Boats when his phone rang. It was HPD with the news he'd been hoping for.

* * *

><p>Having hurried to the Emergency Room, Steve and Danny were now waiting outside of a private exam room for Alex to return from Radiology. Having been introduced to the doctor who would be treating Alex, Steve had been informed of her overall well-being, which, according to Dr. Davenport, was good, considering the situation. Relaying what had been reported by the EMS team that had brought her in, a couple of tourists had found Alex walking on the side of the road near Ka'a'awa Valley. Alex had told the paramedics that she had been walking for a long time. En route to the hospital, Alex had been given IV fluids for dehydration and, for her injuries, oral pain medication which she had been unable to keep down.<p>

Steve had known from Alex's phone call on Monday that she had been hurt in some way, but hearing it vocalized by a physician made it more real. He had suddenly felt nauseous as his mind started thinking the worst. He didn't know how he would deal if his worst fear – that she had been violated in the worst way – had occurred. He hadn't even been able to ask Dr. Davenport if that had taken place. Instead, he had hunched over in the middle of the hall, hands on his thighs, trying to swallow the taste of bile at the back of his throat while Danny had pulled aside Dr. Davenport to talk about that sensitive topic.

"Dad!" Looking up, Steve saw Alex, sitting in a wheelchair, being wheeled towards him by a nurse. She was wearing a scrub top – where was her t-shirt? –over the pair of now dirty shorts she had been wearing when she was kidnapped. She was barefoot and her lower legs were covered in scratch marks of some sort. Her face was dirty and sported a trail of dried blood on the side. Her hair was a matted mess, she had an IV port in her right arm, and her left hand was covered in bandages. But, to Steve, it was the greatest sight he'd ever seen, next to her birth. His little girl was safe. He had her back. Steve rushed towards her, squatting in front of her, and then tenderly wrapped his arms around her. He held onto her, mindful of her visible injuries, breathed her in, and kissed the top of her head. Hearing her mumbled voice, Steve released her and looked into her eyes. "Did you say something, sweetheart?"

"I said," she started, expelling a painful breath, "you're here."

"Of course I'm here," he said, rubbing his thumb tenderly across the trail of dirt on her cheek, "where else would I be?"

Alex smiled and then leaned forward to be hugged again, grimacing in pain as she did.

The nurse looked down at the girl and patted her gently on the shoulder. "Come on, honey, let's go get you washed up and out of those dirty clothes." Alex looked at Steve.

"Go on, Alex," he told her, nodding his head in the direction of her room. "I will be in as soon as you are changed."

Once Alex and the nurse were inside the room and the door closed, Steve turned back to Dr. Davenport and Danny. Looking at Danny, Steve's eyes asked the question for him. Danny shook his head 'no' and Steve breathed a sigh of relief. At least _that_ hadn't been a reason for her kidnapping. Turning his attention to the doctor, Steve asked, "What are her injuries exactly?"

"Well, she appears to have been struck in the head," Dr. Davenport said, stating the obvious. "By what, we're not sure yet. We got a scan of her head to check for any bleeding. She also has a lot of upper and lower abdominal bruising but I don't think there are any fractured ribs. X-Ray will confirm that." He stopped for a moment as Steve started pacing back and forth. "What I'm most concerned with is the cut on her hand. It's pretty deep and looks to be infected." Steve continued to pace, his arms crossed, as he listened to the list of injuries. He was getting angrier by the second – angry at the monster who not only took his child but also hurt her. It was unforgivable. He finally stopped pacing once he heard the doctor say his name.

"Mr. McGarrett, is Alexandra allergic to any medication?"

Steve thought for a moment, before shaking his head. "Medication? I don't think so." He looked up at the ceiling, expelling a breath and thinking. "I'm pretty sure she doesn't. All her medical records are in Seattle."

"Okay," Dr. Davenport replied. He would have the nurse request Alex's records and he would also ask Alex the same question just to be sure.

* * *

><p>"Hi, Uncle Danny," Alex greeted with a smile as he followed her dad and the doctor into the room. Danny walked over to the bed, hugged her, and kissed her on the top of her head.<p>

"Hi, Alex," he greeted. "It's so good to see you, you have no idea." Alex smiled at him as he took a seat in one of the chairs near the bed.

Having finally gotten out of the clothes she'd been wearing for four days, she was now sitting in the hospital bed, legs hanging off the side, while the nice nurse reattached an IV to her arm. Feeling a gentle hand on her shoulder, Alex looked up to see a concerned look on her Dad's face. "I'm okay," she told him.

Steve swallowed the huge lump that had formed in his throat and gave her a slight smile, maintaining eye contact with her. "Yeah," he said in return, not capable of anything else at the moment.

Dr. Davenport rolled over a small table that had some medical instruments on it. He grabbed some purple latex gloves from the box hanging on the wall and set them on the table. Then, pulling up a chair, he said to Alex, "Do you know if you're allergic to any medicine?"

"No, Sir, I'm not," she answered, "The only thing I'm allergic to is lactose."

"Okay," Dr. Davenport answered. "Good." Turning to the nurse, he said, "Let's give her penicillin." The nurse acknowledged his request and headed out of the room.

Putting on the gloves, Dr. Davenport told Alex what he was going to do. "I'm going to take a look at your hand again, okay?" Earlier, he'd only taken a quick look at it before sending her to radiology.

"Yes, Sir," she replied, resting her hand on the table, before stating, "I'm really hungry."

Dr. Davenport began to unravel the bandages on her hand. "When's the last time you had something to eat?"

Alex shrugged, wincing a little from pain. "I dunno. How many days ago was I taken?"

Steve answered her. "You were taken on Monday and today's Thursday."

Alex thought for a moment, her attention focused on what the doctor was doing to her hand. "I think the last time I ate was Monday night, but it made me sick and I threw it up." She thought another minute. "No, wait, they gave me some bread after that but I don't know what day it was."

"Okay," Dr. Davenport told her. "How about you eat some more of those ice chips for now and as soon as I'm done fixing your hand we'll see about getting you some food."He had finished unraveling the bandage and took a better look at the laceration on her palm. It was red, swollen, and there was a little bit of pus coming out of the wound. Definitely infected.

Danny, who had handed Alex the cup of ice from the side table, placed a comforting hand on her back as she winced in pain again, this time more noticeable.

"It hurts pretty badly, huh," Dr. Davenport observed, setting the bandages aside.

Alex shook her head. "Not my hand; my ribs."

Dr. Davenport nodded. "You should start feeling the effects of that pain medication soon," he told her, referring to the bag hanging on the IV pole.

"It's okay," she said, "it only hurts when I breathe." She laughed at her joke, and then stopped, wincing. "Okay, also when I laugh." Looking at the three men – none of whom laughed - she muttered, "Geez, tough crowd." Steve just looked at her and shook his head in disbelief. How was it possible that she was cracking jokes after what she'd been through? What exactly HAD she been through that would have caused these injuries?

"Is it infected because of my t-shirt?" Alex wanted to know finally, staring at the ugly wound on her palm.

Dr. Davenport shook his head. "You did a very smart thing by using your t-shirt and shoelace to stop the bleeding," he assured her.

Alex looked up at Steve, a few tears filling her eyes. "But it was dirty and now –"

Sitting next to her on the bed, he wrapped his arm around her. "It doesn't matter if it's infected, Alex. The medicine will take care of that. You had to stop the bleeding somehow and that's what you did, okay?" He kissed the side of her head, his lips brushing against a scabbed over wound which he guessed was where she had been struck in the head. "You did everything right. This is not your fault."

Taking a more thorough look at Alex's hand, Dr. Davenport noticed something that had not been noted on the paramedic's report. "Alexandra, did you burn yourself?" He was looking at a burn mark just above the wound, near the crease between her index and middle fingers.

The girl nodded, sniffling. "Yes, Sir, I burned it making the fire." A knock was heard on the closed door and the nurse stepped inside, carrying another IV fluid bag, the penicillin. She moved to hang it on the IV stand and to connect it to Alexandra's arm.

"HPD is outside," she informed the three men. "They want to get her statement."

Alex reached for Steve's hand and scooted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. Steve looked at Danny, who knew what he had to do. "I'll tell them they need to wait a little bit. Until the doctor's done." He headed out the door and into the hallway.

* * *

><p>An hour later, Alex's hand was cleaned, stitched, and bandaged, and she was eating her first meal in days. She normally hated hospital food but today it tasted like the best food she'd ever eaten.<p>

"Hey, slow down," Steve reminded her for the second time. "You're going to make yourself sick." Dr. Davenport had finished fixing her hand twenty minutes ago. It wasn't until the tray of food had been delivered ten minutes ago that Alex had let go of his hand. Now they were alone for the first time since she had been found safe.

Steve hadn't taken his eyes off of his daughter since Danny had left the room to deal with the HPD officers. As more of Alex's story came out while getting her hand stitched, he had sat in complete amazement at her and how she had found her way to the road where she was found. She had originally told the paramedics she had been walking for awhile and they had all assumed that meant no more than a couple of hours, as she had been found around 10:00 that morning. But then she told Dr. Davenport about building a fire and, upon further questioning, she said she had been by herself in the jungle since dusk the night before. Steve was surprised that she had been able to figure out what to do to make it through the night, especially with the level of pain she must have been in. As the doctor had told him earlier, it appeared that Alex had some sort of survivalist instinct.

He had so many questions that he wanted answered. Who was the "they" that had taken his daughter? Why did they target her? What did they do to her? He knew, that with time, some of those questions would be answered by Alex. But, other details – as with any type of traumatic experience – might possibly never come out.

Even though he knew it was a conflict of interest, just as it had been all along, his team would be continuing their own investigation into her abduction. He didn't care about the possible repercussions; he was going to hunt down the bastards that took his child. But, first, he was going to be there for his daughter.

There was a knock on the door and Danny stuck his head in. "Are you ready to talk to HPD?"

* * *

><p>Later that day, Steve found himself laying next to his daughter in her hospital bed as she slept with her head on his chest, ear directly over his heart, the way she had when she was three. HPD had finished interviewing Alex a couple of hours ago, and the sketch artist had finally left about an hour ago, much to his relief as Alex was obviously very tired. He had helped her figure out what bed position was most comfortable, closed the curtains, and then had gone to sit in the uncomfortable recliner chair next to the bed. He had barely sat down when Alex had called him 'Daddy' – the first time he'd been called that in he didn't know how long – and then asked him if he would lay with her until she fell asleep. Her voice, coupled with the way she looked at him, broke his heart. She was scared, she was hurting, and she needed him to make her feel safe.<p>

Once he had gotten comfortable next to her, Alex had turned on her side, curled up as best she could given the size of the bed, and laid her head on his chest. Then, listening to his heart beat, she had fallen asleep. He wondered if she even remembered having done the same thing as a child. For awhile there, for the whole year before Cindy took Alex out west, the only way the girl would fall asleep was by listening to his heartbeat. So, almost every night for a year, Steve had lain with his daughter on the couch or in bed, sometimes for hours, until Alex would fall asleep. On those nights when Steve wasn't at home due to night training with the Navy, Alex just wouldn't sleep. It drove Cindy crazy at the time, and for weeks after they had moved west, Cindy had reported to him that Alex had major difficulties going to sleep at night. He could only imagine what Cindy would say if she could see them now.

Cindy. He had called her earlier on the way to the hospital but, like usual, had gotten her voicemail. That was hours ago and he still hadn't heard anything back from her. Something was seriously different about that woman. Maybe that had something to do with the changes in Alex and the way she'd turn so serious, sad even, in an instant. Maybe Cindy had something to do with whatever it was that Alex was keeping from him. Thinking about Cindy gave him a headache and he rubbed his temples.

Alex whimpered in her sleep and Steve, instinctively, pulled her closer. Kissing her on the head, he breathed in the smell of the dry shampoo the charge nurse had used when Alex had asked if she could wash her hair. After Dr. Davenport had reported the good news that Alex did not have any bleeding on her brain or broken ribs – they were just bruised – he had told them that he would be admitting her for the night. She was extremely lucky that her injuries weren't worse and, overall she was doing very well, but Dr. Davenport still wanted her under observation. He was positive she'd go home the next day. It didn't matter to Steve if she was discharged the next day or several days from now; either way he had no plans on leaving her side.

"Daddy." Steve heard a whisper and opened his eyes. He looked down at his daughter who was looking up at him. "Sorry I woke you up," Alex told him.

"I wasn't asleep," Steve replied. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm thirsty," she told him, moving further up on the bed, wincing. "And hungry."

Steve looked at his watch. "They should be coming in soon with dinner." He reclaimed his arm from underneath Alex's head and then got out of the bed. He reached down and grabbed the bed controller from where it had fallen on the floor. "You're going to have to sit up though if you want some water." He started to adjust the bed but Alex stopped him.

"I want to do it myself."

He handed her the remote and she shook her head. "Not with that." Using her good hand for leverage, she slowly raised herself into a sitting position, wincing as she did. Sitting up, she took a deep breath, moved over and then swung her body around so that her legs dangled off the side.

Moving the rolling table in front of Alex, Steve observed, "The pain meds are wearing off."

Grabbing the cup off of the table, she took a sip of water. "A little," she admitted, then meeting his eye, she continued, "but it's okay. Pain reminds me that I'm still alive."

Steve nodded. "Okay, but I –"

He was interrupted by a knock on the partially open door. Turning around, he saw Chin and Kono stepping into the room. Chin was carrying balloons and Kono flowers in a vase. "Hey, Alex," they greeted.

"Hi," she returned. "Those flowers are beautiful," she said as Kono set them on the table in front of her. She leaned forward and sniffed them. "Smell good, too. Thanks." Kono smiled and then hugged the girl.

Chin finished tying the balloons to the back of a chair and then hugged Alex. "How are you feeling?"

"Good," Alex told him, smiling. "Thanks for the balloons, too."

Steve's phone started vibrating on the table. Looking down, he saw that the caller ID showed Cindy's name. He picked up the phone. "I'll be right back, okay?"

Alex nodded, taking another sip of water.

* * *

><p>"Do you really think I'm that stupid?" Steve asked as he paced in the hallway outside of Alex's room. After he had told her Alex was safe, and overviewed her injuries, Cindy proceeded to tell him that she was not going to be able to make it to Hawaii. Blatantly lying to him, she said she couldn't get a flight out. This woman was starting to irritate him more and more. He didn't understand why she would choose to not come see their daughter. "She's your daughter, Cindy. And she's been through hell."<p>

After a few minutes of arguing back and forth, Cindy finally said, "I can't do this right now, Steve. Just tell her I love her and I'll call her soon."

Before he could even respond, she had hung up on him. He rubbed a frustrated hand over his face. He just didn't understand Cindy at all, not even a little bit. Turning around to head back to Alex's room, he saw Danny standing there, holding flowers and a gift bag.

"She's still not coming?" Danny asked, incredulous.

Steve shook his head, expelling an angry breath.

Recognizing the look on Steve's face, Danny told him, "Before you go back in there, go get a cup of coffee or something."

"I'm fine, Danny."

"No, you're not," Danny argued. "You're pissed – and rightfully so – but Alex doesn't need to see you like this."


	6. Chapter 6

Waking up on Sunday morning, two days after Alex had been released from the hospital, Steve rubbed the sleep from his eyes and headed downstairs. Reaching the first floor landing, he saw Alex sitting at the table, his laptop open in front of her. He greeted her as he passed into the kitchen where he poured himself a cup of coffee. Not getting a response from her, he headed towards her and, upon reaching her, he saw silent tears rolling down her face. Setting his mug down on the table, he squatted next to her.

"What's wrong? Are you in a lot of pain?"

She shook her head and scooted the laptop towards him. Looking at it, Steve saw her Facebook page and the post he had made thanking everyone for their thoughts and prayers and where he had emotionally admitted, in a manner so unlike his usual self, that her absence was killing him and all he wanted was his little girl back. He had received a lot of replies to that post.

"You have a lot of people who care about you," he said, his attention back on his daughter now.

Sniffling, she turned in the chair to face him. "I know," she said, her eyes directed down towards her lap. "That's not –" She stopped as her eyes filled with more tears.

"Talk to me, Alex," Steve said, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

"You really do love me, don't you?" she asked him after a few moments of silence, her long eye lashes damp from tears as her eyes met his.

"Of course I do," Steve told her. "I love you more than anything." With a loud sob, Alex threw her arms around his neck. In that moment, it occurred to him that her question was more than just a simple request for confirmation of his love. He realized that his daughter had doubted the one thing that she should never have had to doubt – his love for her.

All of the feelings, questions, and doubts he had experienced during those quiet, dark, and lonely nights when she was missing came flooding back. In those nights, and the night they spent in the hospital, it had occurred to him that he didn't know things about Alex that any decent father would know. He didn't know her favorite color or what she wanted to be when she grew up or her favorite subject in school. He had no clue as to what her favorite book or movie was or what she feared most in life. He had realized that he had never heard her play the piano, not even once, despite her learning how to play when she was nine. And it had taken him discovering that notebook on her nightstand that she wanted to learn at least two more languages, despite already being trilingual. He had always been proud of that fact that she was fluent in two foreign languages by the time she was twelve – because really, how many kids could say that about themselves – but he didn't know who first introduced her to the languages or why she decided to study them. There was so much that he didn't know about her and that had bothered him.

But over the last two days, those feelings of doubt, that sense of failure, had changed. It had been two relaxing days for him and Alex, having spent Friday afternoon and Saturday morning watching the first four Harry Potter movies that he had borrowed from the video store. Surprisingly, he had actually enjoyed the movies and had promised Alex that they would watch the next three before he would take her to see the last film when it was released later that summer. He couldn't remember the last time they had watched a movie together – probably some Disney princess movie when she had visited him in Coronado – and, even though Alex had nodded off during the second and third films, it had felt great to just relax and bond with his child over popcorn and a movie.

Despite being on pain medication, he had known Alex's ribs were still sore, yet she hadn't complained once about them. Nor had she complained about the bandage on her hand, the itchiness of the bug bites on her arms and legs, the mild sunburn, or the cuts on her ankles and feet. She hadn't spoken about the kidnapping at all and, much to his relief, she hadn't been roused from her sleep by nightmares. Overall, he was impressed by her resiliency, strength, and upbeat attitude. When they weren't watching the movies, they had spent a lot of time laughing at Alex's jokes – Alex holding her hand on her ribs as she did – and talking. He wasn't sure who had benefitted more from their last two days together, but, for him, he had started to feel less like the failure he thought he was in the days when Alex was missing.

He had been able to get answers to some of those questions – her favorite colors were purple and blue; she loved history and English – and she had somehow managed to make him feel less like a failure. She just had that way about her. Now, as he hugged her and let her release all of the emotions she had been holding in for who knows how long, he started to be angry at himself again. Sure, he had made it a point to talk to Alex fairly regularly, to stay involved in her life, but how could he have been so stupid to not know those basic things about her. He never should have acted in a way that made Alex doubt how much he loved her.

"I'm sorry," she said, wiping her nose with her hand when she finally pulled away.

"For what?" Steve asked her, his hands dropping to rest on the chair on either side of her legs.

"For crying."

"Don't apologize for that," he told her, leaning forward and kissing her on the forehead. "You're allowed to cry." Using his thumbs, he wiped the trail of tears off of her cheeks.

"Okay," she said finally, and then, with a nod of her head towards the computer, she asked, "Am I in trouble? Mom said I couldn't get one."

Steve shook his head. "Like I told you last time we talked about it, the only concern I had was your privacy but it looks like you took what I said to heart."

Alex nodded. "You said it was important." Playing with a loose thread on her pajama bottoms, she asked, "So are you going to tell her?"

"Nope," he told her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "That secret is safe with me."

That earned him a smile. Turning to face the computer, she observed, "I'm surprised you figured out my password."

"Well," he said, pulling a chair over and sitting down beside her, "I had some help with that."

"Alyssa?" she asked him. She hoped that was the answer over the alternative of him getting someone to hack into her account.

He nodded. "Sometimes, when kids go missing, social network sites give clues about their disappearance." He took a sip of his coffee. "I guess you'll have to come up with another password now."

"I don't care that you know it," Alex told him. "I don't have anything to hide." Catching his eye, she gave him a sly, mischievous smile. "Not yet anyway."

"Are you trying to give me more grey hairs?" His question was answered by a laugh. Shaking his head in mild amusement, he turned his attention to the laptop. Scrolling down on the screen, he asked, "Can you translate something for me?"

"I guess," she said, watching as he scrolled through the many messages on the screen. Seeing the post he stopped on, she looked at him with an amused look on her face. "I still don't get how you can speak, like, 20 languages and not know French."

"I never worked anywhere where I needed to learn it," he told her, his eyes scanning the messages on the screen.

"Yeah," she agreed, before pointing out, "but you don't know any Italian either."

He turned his attention to her. "Again, I never needed to learn it."

Deciding to continue messing with him about his inability to grasp any of the French or Italian she had tried to teach him in the past, she said, "You know, it'd be a shame if I woke up one day and couldn't remember any English." Grinning, she continued, "You wouldn't be able to communicate with me at all."

"Yeah," Steve confirmed. He had wondered how long it would take her to remind him of his failed attempts at trying to learn even a miniscule amount of either language. Through the Navy, he had been trained in Eastern languages – Japanese, Mandarin, Korean, to name a few – so his mind naturally had an easier time picking up those words and phrases than it did with any European language. Maybe he should make it a point this summer to at least let Alex try to re-teach him something from her languages of choice. Nodding towards the screen, he said, "Is that the same Brian you've known since third grade? The one who asked about Danny's car?"

Alex looked at the post. "I've known him since first grade but, yes, that's the same Brian." She read the comment that had been posted as a response to the post her dad had made on the first night she had been missing. She smiled, thinking about the book report project that she and Brian had worked on together when they had discovered the quote he had posted. Their discovery of the quote had come at a time when they both had been going through hard times at home – she with her mother and he with both of his parents – and they had needed to hear something hopeful. In the six months since then, whenever one of them was going through a rough time, the other would remind them of the quote. It had always helped.

"What's it say?" Steve asked, reminding her that she was supposed to be translating for him.

"It's a quote from Les Misérables," she answered. Catching his eye, she recited from memory. "Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise."

"Good quote," he stated before asking, "Okay, what about this?" He scrolled further down until he found another post from the same kid.

"You know they have online translators for this sort of thing," she pointed out, just to give him a hard time.

He had been curious what Brian's posts meant when the boy had first posted them, and he knew he could have used an online translator, but he had needed to hold onto that hope that Alex herself would be able to translate it for him. So, he had chosen not to use the translator. But he wasn't going to tell Alex any of that. "Translation," Steve said, meeting her eye. "Please."

Alex kept eye contact with him for a few moments, sensing something in him that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Something was different about him. Actually, he had been different ever since she saw him at the hospital after she was brought there by the ambulance. She returned her attention to the screen, speaking as she read. "Whoever took Alex better be prepared for a battle, because I know her, and she –" she stopped, her voice catching in her throat. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"What is it?" Steve asked her, putting an arm on her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Expelling a breath, she opened her eyes. "She won't give up without a fight," she finished. Just like that, she knew that now was the time to tell him the secret she had been keeping since Wednesday night when she had been left alone in the jungle. Turning in her seat to face him again, she said in a painful voice, "Dad, there's something I need to tell you."

"Of course, Alex," he said, worried by the expression on her face. "You can tell me anything."

"I need to tell you something," she repeated. "And I think that Uncle Danny or Chin or somebody should be here when I do."

"I don't under—"

She cut him off. "Please, Daddy," she pleaded. "Can you invite Uncle Danny over for breakfast or something?"

"Okay," he said, resolving himself to be patient. Whatever it was that she needed to tell him obviously was going to be emotional for her. He reminded himself that it was job to ensure that she told him in a manner that was most comfortable for her. If that involved Danny, then so be it. "But just so you know, Danny's not quite the early birds that we are."

For some reason, she chuckled at that. "I think if you tell him he'll get a free meal out of it, he'll come."

Steve nodded and smiled at her. "I think you're probably right about that." He moved to get up but was impeded by her hand on his arm.

"Thanks," she said.

"Whatever makes it easiest for you to tell me," he replied, misunderstanding what she was thanking him for.

Not addressing his misunderstanding, she stood up and they both headed to the kitchen, he to refill his cup of coffee and her to grab a bottle of water. "So what are you going to make for breakfast?"

Steve shrugged. "I'll figure that out after I call Danny."

"Okay," she replied, "I'm going to go get dressed." She headed for the stairs, stopping at the bottom of them when she heard her dad speak.

"Six."

"What?" she asked, turning to face him.

"Not twenty; six," he replied, "I speak six languages."

* * *

><p>"Well, you were right," Danny admitted to Alex, "the turkey bacon wasn't bad."<p>

Alex smiled at him from across the table. "Told you. Plus, it's healthier for you."

They had just finished eating their breakfast of pancakes, bacon, and eggs, all of which Steve had cooked by himself without any help. Despite their offers to help clean up, Steve had collected their cups and plates and was currently in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher.

"Well, Grace will thank you for that," Danny told her.

Turning to face the kitchen, Alex got her dad's attention. "Can we talk now?" It wasn't that she really wanted to tell him the message that she had been instructed to give to him because it brought with it some harsh realities that she hadn't known before, but she knew she needed to. Especially because she couldn't tell the HPD officers about it.

Steve stopped what he was doing and joined them at the table, sitting next to her.

Alex took a deep breath. _Here goes nothing._ She hoped her dad wouldn't respond in the way she expected him to. "First, can you promise not to get mad at me?"

"Why would I –"

"Please, just promise," she said, interrupting him.

"Okay," he told her, completely clueless about what she could possibly tell him that would make him mad at her. "I promise."

"Okay." She took a drink from her water bottle as she started to tap her foot nervously. "I kinda did something bad," she started, looking at him. "I lied to HPD when they asked me about the second kidnapper."

Steve couldn't respond right away as he thought back to the scene in the hospital room where Alex had been interviewed by the HPD officers. She had told them there were two kidnappers but that she had only seen one of them – he was the man she described to the sketch artist – and that she didn't even remember anything about the second man. Was she now saying that she kept important information from the cops? Why would she do that? He reminded himself to remain calm. "Okay. Why did you do that?"

"He's a cop."

Steve and Danny looked at each other before they both got angry. "What?" they both asked, incredulous. Steve got up and started to pace. A member of law enforcement had taken his daughter. This angered him even more.

Alex's eyes followed her dad as he moved around the room. "I don't know his name or what he looks like but I saw his badge," she told them. "It was on his belt, like how you guys wear yours." When her dad didn't respond, she looked at Danny. "He was the nice one. He –"

"Nice?" Steve echoed, his anger evident in his tone. "He kidnapped you, Alex."

"Yeah, he did," she acknowledged, her eyes meeting his. "But he also made the other guy stop when he was –" She paused for a few moments and then shook her head to clear the memories. "He made him stop and told the other guy I was never supposed to get hurt." Having returned to the chair next to Alex when she mentioned getting hurt, Steve wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. He knew this was hard for her.

Alex took a deep breath and blinked away the tears that were forming in her eyes. "I was never supposed to get hurt," she repeated. Looking up at him, she continued, "They were only supposed to take me to scare you."

Steve didn't understand and, from the look on his face, Danny didn't either. "To scare me?"

She nodded against his shoulder before pulling away from his embrace. "Their boss knows you. He knows our family." She closed her eyes, bringing to mind the message she was given to pass on. "The nice one, the cop, he's the one that let me go. He blindfolded me and then took me out of the cabin and we walked. We walked for 489 steps and when we stopped he gave me a message to give you from his boss."

Steve was still confused. He was trying to wrap his brain around what he was hearing. First, a cop was involved in taking his daughter, and then to find out that her kidnapping was only a ploy to scare him. Everyone he had ever met was running through his mind but he couldn't figure out who this "boss" was or how he knew him. Or why they would take Alex. Barely anyone even knew she was in Hawaii.

"The message was," Alex began, finding the strength someplace inside of her. "That you need to stop searching for answers because, if you don't, he'll make sure what happened to Grandma and Grandpa will happen to you."

Upon hearing this, Steve's eyes went wide. Looking across the table, he realized that Danny had the same sickening suspicion. It couldn't be.

Next to him, he heard Alex take a deep breath. "His boss's name is Wo Fat."


	7. Chapter 7

"I thought Grandma died in a car accident and that Grandpa had a heart attack," Alex said, only partly grasping the impact that her last statement had on the two men in the room with her. As soon as she had mentioned the man's name, her dad had jumped out of his seat and headed to the windows that overlooked the backyard. He had just stood there with his arms crossed in front of him, staring at the ocean, and hadn't uttered a word. Uncle Danny had stayed seated but she could tell the gears were turning in his head as he mulled over what she had told them.

Steve couldn't say anything in response to what his daughter had just told him about her kidnapping and how she ended up in the jungle alone. She had just told them that Wo Fat had been responsible for her kidnapping. One of the men he had hired – a cop – had given Alex a message to pass on to him. The message from Wo Fat had warned Steve to stop searching for him – stop searching for answers – and then he had threatened his life. Steve was angry. His blood was boiling with hatred for the man who had already done so much damage to his family. If he responded to his daughter at this moment, everything he would say would come out wrong. He'd scare her and upset her. So he stayed quiet.

"Dad," Alex said impatiently when another few minutes passed without a word from him. "Did that man kill them?"

Reaching his arm across the table, Danny touched her hand. "I think your Dad needs a few minutes. Why don't you head up to your room?"

"But, Uncle Danny," she protested, her eyes still on her dad.

"Alexandra." When he spoke, Alex didn't recognize his voice. It sounded so distant, so hollow; different than any voice she'd ever heard him use. As he spoke, he didn't even turn to look at her and it scared her. "Please do what Danny says. Go to your room, close the door and I'll be up in a little while to talk."

She just stared at his back, like she had been doing for well over five minutes. When she opened her mouth to speak, Danny held up his hand and shook his head. He got up out of his seat, walked to her side of the table, and gently pulled her to her feet. He walked her to the stairs and waited until she was upstairs in her room with the door closed. Then, he walked back across the open living space and approached Steve. "Steve."

"He took her, Danny," Steve stated before his voice got louder. "Mess with me all you want but you don't touch my kid!"

Danny gave him a minute before he spoke. "What do you want to do?" The look he got from Steve was what he had expected it would be – to kill Wo Fat – but not quite the answer he was looking for. "I mean, how do you want to handle this? I'll call the team and see if they can head to headquarters. I'll have them start searching for this cabin Alex mentioned. Have Chin –"

"Call them," Steve said, anger flashing in his eyes. "Have Chin and Kono start running through any HPD cops with questionable behavior; any one known to have had contact with Wo Fat or any Yakusa members. See if there's been any progress with the sketch. Have Jenna start looking for any signs of a cabin in, say, an 8 to 10 mile radius of where Alex was found."

"You think she walked that far?"

"I don't know," Steve admitted. "All I know is that she shouldn't have been out there to begin with. Wo Fat –"

"We're going to get him, Steve." Danny didn't know how, or when, they would succeed in tracking down Wo Fat and bringing him to justice for Alex's kidnapping and other innumerable crimes he had committed but they would, he'd help Steve make sure of that. Alex wasn't his daughter but she was Steve's and that, more than anything else, made it personal.

Steve ran a hand through his hair. "Meet you at headquarters in an hour."

* * *

><p>"You okay?" Steve asked his too-quiet daughter. They were in his truck, headed to Five-O headquarters. After Danny had left, he had headed upstairs to tell her the truth about his parent's deaths. He had told her that he had lived nearly 20 years thinking his mother had died in a car accident. It was only in the weeks after his father's death that he had discovered the truth. As for his father, Steve had explained that he had been shot while talking with him on the phone. Without mentioning the man's name, he had told her about Victor Hess and the role he had played in his father's murder. He had also explained to her about his arrest, imprisonment, and escape – about Wo Fat's responsibility for the governor's death; about Victor Hess ignoring the order to kill him and, instead, stabbed him, which led to him being able to escape. In retrospect, he probably should not have gone into as much detail as he had – and if Cindy were to find out, there would probably be hell to pay – but it was too late to worry about that now.<p>

Alex had said only one thing throughout the whole twenty minute conversation and that was to ask him why he and her mother had lied to her about what really happened to her grandfather. He had explained, again, that it his was job to protect her and, at the time, - not that there ever was a good time – he didn't feel it was appropriate to discuss cold-blooded murder with her. He told her that he would have told her the truth at some point but, being completely honest with her, he hadn't planned on it being when she was just barely fourteen years old. She hadn't gotten angry at him; in fact, she hadn't expressed any emotion. It worried him. He had to remind himself that Wo Fat had left him no choice but to tell her all those truths.

After their conversation, he had told her he would be heading to the office and she had insisted on going with him. She wouldn't admit to it, but he believed she was nervous – scared even – to be alone at the house. Not that he blamed her; the last time she had been there alone Wo Fat's hired help had taken her. That aside, it was actually probably a good idea that she go with him. Since she hadn't seen his face, they were at a dead end with the cop, but she might be able to give them better insight as to the location of the cabin. If nothing else, maybe finding the cabin would provide some clues.

"Yeah," Alex replied, looking out the window. "I just don't want to talk about it anymore right now."

"Okay."

* * *

><p>"Any progress on the sketch?" Steve asked Kono and Jenna Kaye. He and Alex had arrived at the office five minutes ago. Chin and Danny had taken Alex aside and, from the looks of it, were being successful in getting her to laugh.<p>

"Nothing close, no," Jenna told him. "Definitely not anything local and we're searching nationally now."

"HPD hasn't had any luck either," Kono informed him. "We do have three that have some of the same features," she said, pulling up their photos on the screen, "but I don't think they're close enough."

"You're right, they're not him." They turned to look at Alex as she approached them with Chin and Danny. She stopped and looked at the pictures. "Their eyes are similar, but that first one's face is too round. That one in the middle – his nose is wrong." She thought for a minute. "The third one, I don't know, he's just – it's not him either." She looked at the women. "Are you able to search internationally? Like, I don't know, Eastern Europe."

"Wait," Steve said, looking at her, "you think he's Eastern European?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I told HPD he had an accent, remember?"

Steve nodded. "Right, but what makes you think Eastern European?"

"I don't know," she replied. "It wasn't Italian or French, I know that. He wasn't Asian or Middle Eastern." She looked around the table at them. "That doesn't help at all, does it?"

"It does, actually," Kono answered, giving the girl a smile.

"I'll expand the search," Jenna said, "put some restrictions on the description and see what we can find." She went to work adjusting her search parameters.

"So, Alex," Chin said, "tell me about the HPD officer." It really bugged him that one of his HPD colleagues was involved in her abduction. While he was more than aware of numerous cops who had turned corrupt, this one was special: Alex was John McGarrett's granddaughter and Steve's daughter. That made her family. He was more than determined to help Steve locate the man and bring him to justice for his involvement in the kidnapping.

"She didn't see his face, Chin," Steve told him. His anger was starting to rise to the surface again. This was ridiculous; there had to be some clue as to who the two men are, especially the one that Alex could actually identify.

"I know that, Steve," Chin replied, ignoring the tone in Steve's voice. "But…"

The three men started to talk, ignoring Alex as she tried to get their attention. She had something else to tell them, something that would identify the policeman. So, moving around the table, she walked behind the three men, lingered for a minute and then walked away.

"In case anyone cares," she said, loudly, "I stole his wallet." By the time her words sank in and the room went quiet, she was sitting in a chair a couple of feet away from the table. As the five sets of eyes stared at her – in surprise or disbelief, she wasn't sure – she just stared back at them.

"You what?" Steve asked her.

"I stole his wallet," she repeated.

"I heard that," he said, "but what – how –" He doubted she was making it up but she hadn't said anything until now about the man's wallet. He wasn't quite sure how to respond.

"Same way I swiped yours," she answered. Seeing the confused look on his face, she asked with a sly grin on her face, "Missing something from your back right pocket?"

He moved his hand, feeling for his wallet, and, not finding it, looked back at her. His look told her she was in trouble, but she knew punishing her wasn't one of his priorities right now so she wasn't concerned.

"Believe it or not," she said, tossing him his wallet, "it's not that hard to swipe one when someone's distracted like you were a few minutes ago." Behind her father, she could see the look that passed between Kono, Chin and Danny. She couldn't be certain but it looked like amusement on their faces.

Steve put his wallet back in his pocket, giving his daughter a look. "When you were found, you didn't have a wallet with you."

"That's because I buried it," she told him. "I couldn't exactly swipe it and then hold onto it, could I?"

"Where'd you bury it?" Danny asked, knowing Steve well enough to recognize that he was on his way to losing his patience. Of course, most of that was probably from the fact that his daughter just successfully pick-pocketed him and he hadn't been the wiser. That had to have gotten under the Super Seal's skin a little bit. Not that he condoned pick-pocketing, but anything that made Steve less robotic and more human, gave him a sense of satisfaction. He was impressed by Alex's latest action; he liked that kid more and more every day.

"Near a tree, behind the cabin," Alex answered, looking at him. "It was near where they made me use the bathroom."

"Well, great," Steve muttered, frustrated. Turning to Jenna, he said, "Any progress on locating the cabin?"

"No," she told him, pulling up a map of Ka'a'awa Valley. "There's no sign of any cabin in the radius you gave me." She zoomed in on a portion of the map, where a red dot was placed that represented the spot where Alex had been spotted by the tourists. "There's nothing there that shouldn't be," she explained. "She was in an isolated portion of the park." Ka'a'awa Valley was part of Kualoa Ranch, a 4,000 acre working cattle ranch, with diverse terrain ranging from open valleys and white sand beaches to dense rainforest. If Alex had mentioned walking through the valley, it'd be so much easier to hone in any buildings that shouldn't be there, but, of course, she had been left in the rainforest.

"It's there," Alex said, feeling somewhat offended by Jenna's comment. She wasn't sure why but Jenna's statement made her feel like she was being accused of making up the story about the cabin.

Steve turned back to face his daughter, recognizing the hint of annoyance that had crept into her voice. "I know," he told her, "but we have no way of knowing how far you walked or in what direction it is from where you were found."

"I can find it." Her statement did not contain any trace of doubt. She was one-hundred percent confident that she could.

Steve shook his head. "No, Alex, you—"

She interrupted him. "I did more than just count the number of steps we took from the cabin to where he left me."

"What are you talking about?"

"Why do you think I was barefoot when those people found me?" Not waiting for a response, she continued, "I made sure I'd be able to find my way back there." After the man had removed her blindfold, she had counted to 500 like he told her to. Then she had opened her eyes and marked her spot with a bloody handprint. She had taken off her shirt and wrapped it around her bloody hand. Then she had taken one of her shoelaces and used it to keep the shirt in place. She had somehow managed to build a fire that night and, once the sun came up, she started moving again. Along the way she had ditched her shoes, placing them on tree limbs or rocks as marking points. Using a sharp rock she had found, she painfully had managed to cut strips out of her socks, which she had then used to hang on low lying tree limbs to mark her path to freedom. She had only hoped that the path she was taking would eventually lead out of the jungle and to a road.

She ignored the four other sets of eyes on her, and instead just maintained eye contact with her dad. He didn't reply – no one replied – so, after a few minutes, she spoke again. "I know you don't believe me. You think kids are too stupid to –"

"No, no," Steve said, interrupting her and moving towards her. Squatting in front of her, he said, "It's not that I don't believe you and I don't think you're stupid." He placed a hand on top of hers. "I actually think that if anyone would be smart enough to leave clues along the path, it would be you."

"Then let me show you."

He shook his head. "I can't do that, Alex."

"Why not?"

He chose his words carefully. "Because it's my job to keep you safe. Having you make that trek again – taking you back to the cabin – it's only going to cause you pain and I can't let that happen."

"Grandpa would let me," she stated, matter-of-factly.

He shook his head again. "No, Alex, I don't think he would."

She maintained eye contact with him for several moments as she considered her argument. "You know what he used to say to me?" she asked him. Not waiting for a response, she continued, "He used to tell me the story of when you and Mom split up."

Steve didn't respond to his daughter. He had never talked to his father about why he and Cindy broke up or why Cindy took Alex to Seattle; they had never discussed any aspect of it. It didn't make sense that his father would tell Alex something he had no idea about.

"He said that it was the most painful decision you ever had to make – letting Mom take me to Washington – but that you did it anyway because you knew you had to do the right thing."

"I don't understand," Steve admitted. _Where is she going with this?_

"The right thing was choosing the Navy. You knew you had to become a Seal because you were one of the best people for the job," she explained, absently scratching the bug bites on her arm. "Even though it meant you were hurting because you couldn't see me, you chose to do the right thing." She glanced in Chin's direction. He knew her grandfather; he would understand what she was saying. "Grandpa always told me that you always have to do the right thing, no matter how painful it might be."

Steve's mind was working overtime. It was mind boggling, the things he kept finding out about his dad that he had never known before his death. Still, regardless of what Alex had just told him, the situations were entirely different and he told her that.

She gave him smile that told him she was going to argue. "I don't think it's all that different actually. You were needed by the Navy to be a Seal and you need me to find the cabin." She chewed her lip for a few seconds in thought. "He's why the Governor is dead and why you were in jail, Dad." Tears filled her eyes briefly before she blinked them away. "He's why Grandpa was taken from us. I don't want anyone else to suffer because of him."

Steve just looked at her for a few minutes. He was still annoyed that she had been able to lift his wallet without him realizing it and her apparent need to disagree with and question him bugged him. But he was truly amazed at her dauntlessness and strength. Finally, he told her, "Okay, I hear you." He kissed her on the top of her head. "I hear you, Alex. Now go into my office for a little while, okay?"

She stood up and started to head toward his office. She turned around to face him when she heard him speak.

"We will be talking about the pick-pocketing," he warned her.

"I know."

He waited until she was in his office and the door closed before turning to head back to the table. As he moved, he noticed the faces of his coworkers. "What's so amusing?"

"She's a cool kid," Kono observed, not really addressing his question. "I like her."

Jenna, Danny, and Chin all expressed similar sentiments. Then Danny, who couldn't resist the urge to poke fun at Steve, commented, "Yeah, I mean, even you should be able to appreciate her pick-pocketing skills."

Hearing the room fill with laughs, Steve scowled at them. "I'm glad you all think it's great that my daughter has a future in theft."

Chin shared a look with Danny and his cousin. "Alright, so what do you want to do?"

Steve sighed and placed his hands on the edge of the table. Then, looking back at his office, he watched Alex. "I don't know." Looking at Danny, he asked, "What would you do?"

"If it was Grace," Danny started, "I would do everything I could to get the bastards who took her."

"Yeah," Steve agreed, "but if she were hurt?" He looked back through the glass at Alex. "If she had bruised ribs and the other injuries?"

"I don't know," Danny admitted with a shrug. "I wouldn't want Grace to be in pain but –" He shook his head. "It's a tough decision."

"Look, Steve," Chin said, "I'm not a parent so I don't know what I would do if she were my daughter." Steve's eyes on him now, he continued, "But I did know your dad – I saw how he was with her – and I think she's right. He probably would let her do it."

* * *

><p>Once he was convinced that Alex wasn't in too much pain, he gave her a bottle of water and a granola bar from his backpack. Then, leaving her on the rock with Chin, he walked away, back in the direction of where they had just come from. Whether or not he would come to regret his decision to head into the jungle had yet to be made aware to him.<p>

Earlier, after he had weighed the options, he had decided to trust Alex when she said her pain was controlled and, after lunch, they had headed to the spot where she had been found. When he had first made his decision, Chin and Danny had debated between themselves who would accompany him and Alex on the hike. Being more familiar with the terrain, and actually enjoying hiking, Chin had won the debate. It was agreed that Jenna would stay at headquarters to continue running the search for a match to the sketch. Danny and Kono would work inside a mobile logistics system from the road where Alex had been found, and then, once the cabin was located, they would use the GPS to navigate the vehicles to the location. Having had a quick bite to eat and running home for an old pair of tennis shoes for Alex, they had made it to their starting point by one o'clock.

It had taken a few minutes for Alex to reacquaint herself with the road and surrounding environment but, once she had selected her route, she had done nothing but amaze him. The first marker they had found about 100 yards in from the beginning of the jungle. It had been a pink hair tie, hanging from a tree limb. After that, in varying distances from one another, they had come across strips of cloth – what she told them were pieces of her socks – either hanging from tree limbs or – in cases where the limbs were too high – wrapped around a loose tree branch that she had leaned against a tree trunk. They had stopped twice for a short water break but Alex had been insistent on continuing along the trail.

They had been walking for around two hours and, with Alex slowing down, Steve had insisted they stop and take a longer break. He had guessed they had hiked about four miles, much slower than what Alex's normal pace would have been, but probably, he figured, faster than Alex had moved on Thursday. Alex seemed to be doing well – she hadn't winced or complained of any pain and she had been very chatty with Chin – but, if he was being honest with himself, he wasn't doing that great. While Alex had been talking with Chin, he had remained quiet for the most part, lost in his own thoughts. Which was why, now that Alex was resting and Chin was watching her, he was walking away. He needed to be alone for a few minutes.

"Does he blame himself for what happened to me?" Alex asked Chin, after her dad was out of earshot.

"I think that's something you're going to have to ask him about," Chin replied. He could have told the girl his suspicions, that, yes, Steve did blame himself, but it really wasn't his place to say.

"Okay," Alex replied, taking a bite of the granola bar. Swallowing, she asked, "Is he okay?" It hadn't been lost on her that he had barely spoken over the last couple of hours. She was worried about him.

Chin thought for a moment before answering. "I think he's just really surprised at how much you've grown up." He took a swig of water. "And that you were able to keep your head about you to leave the clues that you did."

"It's what he would've done," Alex told him, looking off into the distance.

"You're probably right about that," Chin agreed. He smiled and said, "You know, your grandfather would be proud of you."

"Yeah," Alex acknowledged, the pain over his death hitting her all over again. She swiped her hand across her face, wiping away the tears that had begun to form in her eyes. Looking at Chin, she said, "I lost the picture."

He had no clue what she was talking about. "What picture?"

"Remember the one he had on his desk?" she asked, before reminding him, "the one of him, Dad, and me?"

Chin thought for a few moments, trying to bring to mind a vision of his former partner's desk. "Camping or something, right?"

Alex nodded. "Yeah," she confirmed. "I usually carry it with me all the time. I had it that day. I had it up here but I don't know what happened to it." It was more than just a picture to her. It was a memory, a connection to the man she looked up to her entire life and was now gone. It was a connection to the man she was getting to know all over again. "I know it's stupid," she told him, "but it's actually what helped me get through those days and nights in the cabin."

"That's not stupid," Chin assured the girl.

"What's not stupid?"

They looked up as Steve came around the corner towards them.

"Nothing," Alex said, hoping Chin wouldn't rat on her for lying. Turning her head in the opposite direction – towards the direction they were moving – she said, "I think we're getting close."

Sitting down next to his daughter and stealing a drink from her water bottle, Steve asked, "What makes you say that?"

"My pink shoelace," she said, a touch of excitement entering her voice. She had two different colored shoelaces in her running shoes: one white, which she used to tie her shirt around her hand, and one pink, which she had used as the third marker after she had put out the fire that morning. Now, all they needed to do was find her shoes, find her handprint, and then count 489 steps to the cabin. "See it?" She pointed past Chin and, sure enough, a bright pink shoelace hung from the end of a tree branch. She started to stand up but Steve held her back.

"Not yet, Alex," Steve told her. "We'll get there; we just need to rest for a little while longer."

* * *

><p>"I want you to wait here," Steve told his daughter, while pulling an extra gun magazine out of his bag. After their break, they had continued their trek, discovering Alex's shoes and the remnants of the fire she had made. He had made them stop when they discovered the boulder that Alex had branded with a bloody handprint. There was just something about seeing his child's blood on a gray rock that had made his stomach churn. She had done her job – she had found her way back to this spot – and he was not going to let her go any further. Not until he and Chin found the cabin and made sure it was safe for her to be there.<p>

"Okay," Alex capitulated. She was more than happy to take another break. Her hand hurt from when she tripped earlier, her ribs were starting to get sore again, and she was tired. Not that she would admit to any of that if he were to ask her. "489 steps," she reminded, watching as he and Chin loaded their guns.

"489 steps," he echoed. "Stay here and don't move until I come get you. Okay?"

"Okay," she replied, dropping to the ground with her back against the boulder.

Alex's count was spot on. At 362 steps, although partially obstructed by dense foliage, the cabin had come into view. Moving slowly as they listened for any sound coming from the tiny building, Steve had continued counting. Chin had moved around to the side of the building, looking through the windows at the interior, and then gave Steve the signal for all-clear. The 489th step had brought him within 5 feet of the front door. _That's my girl _he said to himself, smiling as he did.

While Chin called Kono to provide their location, Steve entered the building. It wasn't quite a cabin; one room shack would have been a better description, but he couldn't hold that against Alex. He turned on his flashlight and took a quick look through the room. Spotting a shackle on the floor, his stomach churned again. The bastards chained her up like she was a prisoner. Before he could investigate further, he heard Alex's voice, shouting for him.

Heading outside, he saw Alex hurrying towards him, the top half of her body only covered in her sports bra. _What the hell? Why is she without her shirt again?_ As she got closer, he could see her t-shirt wrapped around her hand again. He could hear Chin's voice, telling Kono to get there as fast as she and Danny could because Alex was hurt. He ran towards his daughter, and, reaching her, she held out her hand. "I think I busted my stitches when I fell."

_Dammit! _He should've checked her hand earlier when she tripped, instead of just taking her word for it that she was okay. He carefully peeled her shirt off of her hand, putting it back in place when he saw the blood. _Yep, bust her stitches is exactly what she did._ "This is going to hurt but I have to apply pressure to it, okay?" She nodded and he clasped her hand between the two of his. He led her back to the building and got her to sit with her back against the wood.

"Here," Chin said, holding out a bottle of water as he pulled gauze out of the first aid kit they had brought with them. "They're on their way," he reported, moving to help Steve with Alex's injury.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Alex said, her body starting to emotionally react to the tiredness and pain. She let the tears fall as she continued, "I know you said to stay put but –"

"It's okay," Steve told her as he unwrapped the bandage from her hand. He could care less about her not obeying him; her injury was much more important. Glancing at her, he could see her staring at the bleeding wound. "Why don't you sing me a song?"

"I can't," she said, wincing.

"Tell me about Seattle, Alex," Chin said to her, opening the bottle of water for Steve. They were going to flush the wound and then re-bandage it. "I've never been there."

Sniffling she said, "It rains. A lot."

"What's the Space Needle like?" he asked, hoping she would divert her attention from her hand to him. "And the ferry boats? You've been on them, right?" It worked; she made eye contact with him.


	8. Chapter 8

As he watched her sleep, Steve reflected on the very trying and tough week he had had with Alex. In fact, this was actually the first time all week that she was sleeping peacefully. Upon getting her hand re-stitched after locating the cabin, Alex had developed a rather snippy attitude and, from that point on, she had been exhibiting what could only be described as bipolar-like behavior: respectful and kind one minute; angry and irrational the next. Many times, unprovoked, she had lashed out at him – for what exactly, he still wasn't sure. Several times he had to remind himself that, unlike him, Alex had not been trained to deal with a traumatic experience. Where he would – and had in the past – be able to move on immediately after any traumatic event such as a kidnapping, Alex was still just a kid who was struggling with the early manifestations of PTSD, which also now included nightmares.

As if that hadn't been hard enough on her, he sensed there was something more – three events in particular – that was contributing to her behavior and attitude over the past seven days. First, on Monday morning he had taken her to see a psychologist who specialized in helping adolescents deal with traumatic events. The entire way there she had protested, saying that she didn't need to see a shrink and then argued that he could not make her go if she didn't want to. In response, he had told her that, when it came down to it, he was the parent and she would do as he said whether she liked it or not. Sure enough, after the appointment – and after she found out he had scheduled several follow-up appointments for her – she had initially been moody, argumentative, and royally pissed off at him; then she had decided to give him the silent treatment for the rest of the day.

The second possible explanation was what had taken place during a discussion about the Artful Dodger*-like skill that she had practiced – and perfected – on him. He had lectured her about right versus wrong and, without thinking, had angrily accused her of being nothing more than a thief. She had insisted that it simply was a skill that she and a friend had acquired after practicing on each other until they perfected it. Later she had vehemently denied ever stealing anything from anyone. He believed her but by then he had already accused her friend of being a bad influence on her which, of course, had angered her.

"_You don't even know him!" she had screamed, fists clenched at her side. "You don't know anything about his home life or what made us want to learn it to begin with!" Anger flashing in her eyes, she continued, "You don't know anything!"_

"_Calm down, right now, young lady," Steve had told her, holding up his hand. "You need to watch –"_

"_How dare you judge my friends when you don't even know them!" _

She had finally calmed down but, by that point, it was too late: she refused to explain anything to him about her friend, his home life, or what could have possibly triggered a desire to become an effective pickpocket. That had taken place on Tuesday night and, since then, she had grown angry every time he tried to bring it up.

She had always been the type of kid who let certain things go – lectures she hadn't wanted to hear; being grounded; having her cell phone confiscated; disagreements – instead of holding onto the anger those things may have caused. Quite the opposite of how he had been as a teenager actually. Knowing that, he was most confident that the third and final event – information he had received from Alex's friend Alyssa – was the major reason for her behavior. Only two days ago, on Friday, Alyssa had called him, expressing her concern for Alex after the two had talked on Wednesday. Assuming Alex had spoken with him after their conversation two days prior, the girl had shared with him the news about Cindy. He had been surprised by one of the items he was told, while the second piece of information had only angered him. He was angry at Cindy for flat out lying not only to him, but to their daughter as well. Based on his own reaction to the news, he could only imagine how hurt Alex must be feeling, yet the girl had not said anything to him about it. He simply could not understand why she would keep something like that to herself. He wondered if she would ever tell him.

As he continued to watch her sleep, his mind drifted to what had occurred that night, exactly one week ago, when Chin had showed up at the house to update him on what they had found at the cabin. They had dug up the cop's wallet – it had been right where Alex had said it was – to discover that none of them recognized the man. They had determined that the man was new to HPD, after relocating less than two months earlier from the Los Angeles Police Department. After further investigation, they found that he had taken a flight back to the mainland on Thursday morning – the morning Alex had been found safe – leaving his wife and children behind in Waikiki. They had found a list of phone numbers inside the wallet, which Kono and Danny had tracked to a set of disposable cells, and Jenna had made no progress in identifying the other man. It was frustrating that the cabin had yielded no other clues, but then again, they hadn't expected anything less from Wo Fat. At least they knew the second man's name now and they would be watching, and waiting, for him to return to Oahu.

It had been a long and exhausting week and, based on the fact that the governor had requested a meeting with him in the morning, he sensed that the following week would prove to be just as tiring. As he started to wonder about the reason for the meeting, the doorbell rang. Taking one last look at his daughter, and seeing parts of her mother reflected in her sleeping form– the way her hair fell across her face; how she slept with one hand under her cheek – he knew what he had to do and headed downstairs.

Opening the door, he greeted Danny and, then, before Danny had barely stepped inside, he said, "I know we invited you for dinner but could you do me a favor first?"

Danny gave him a weird look. "Maybe. Does it involve doing anything hazardous to my well-being?"

Steve shook his head. "Not unless you consider staying with a fourteen old girl hazardous."

"No," Danny said, before giving into the urge. "I only consider that girl's father as being a daily threat to my well-being."

"Hilarious, Daniel," Steve said, rolling his eyes as he picked up his wallet from the end table. "Seriously, do you mind staying with her – listening to see if she has another nightmare? I need to go take care of something."

* * *

><p>"I'm putting Grace in a new summer camp program next week," Danny said, grabbing a handful of peanuts out of the bowl on Steve's dining room table. It was now a few hours later. Having eaten dinner after Steve's eventual return to the house, Alex had returned to her room and Steve had pulled out a deck of cards for a few rounds of poker. "They're taking all ages and have different activities based on age." His ex-wife, Rachel, and her husband, Stan, would be going out of town for two weeks, starting next weekend and he was looking forward to having his daughter with him for more than just a couple of nights. Unfortunately, due to his work schedule, he wouldn't be able to spend as much time with her during the day as he had hoped. Instead, he had signed her up for a day camp that promised a multitude of fun activities for Grace's age group: swimming; movies; horseback riding; a trip to the Honolulu Children's Discovery Center; and more.<p>

After a week of watching a bored Alex hang out in Steve's office – sleeping on the floor on a makeshift bed; using his laptop to Skype or play computer games; reading – they'd even caught her cleaning once – he had suggested to Steve that he find something fun for Alex to do. She couldn't just sit around bored for the entire summer, especially when she was still nervous about being at the house by herself. He didn't know everything Alex liked to do for fun, but he was betting that anything would be better than being cooped up inside Headquarters while they were out working on cases. Plus, judging on the arguments he had overhead, spending a little time away from her Dad would probably be beneficial for both of the McGarrett's.

"What kind of stuff do they have planned for the teens?" Steve asked, shuffling the deck of cards in front of him. He had known that Alex was bored at his office all last week but she hadn't wanted to stay at the house by herself. He had offered to drop her at the mall one day – had suggested she go see a movie – but she had pointed out that only losers go to the movies by themselves. Another day he had dropped her at the library with money for lunch but she had then showed up at Headquarters not even two hours later, with new books in hand, and the claim that she couldn't get comfortable in any of the library chairs. He had sensed that it had more to do with the need to feel safe and she felt safest at headquarters, whether he was there with her or not. He also knew that she was getting antsy to go running, but, after the trip to the ER last Sunday when she had busted her stitches, the doctor had put her on limited physical activity – no running; no biking; no hiking; not much of anything really. He knew that for Alex, it was pure torture. In that regard, she was very much his kid.

"Not sure," Danny replied. He thought for a minute, bringing to mind the camp brochure. "I think they're spending one day at Oahu Zip Line, doing that and hiking to the waterfall." He took a swig of his beer. "I'll send you the link to the website later."

"Well, Alex would certainly enjoy the Zip Line," Steve commented, dealing the cards.

* * *

><p>"Is he always like this or do missing kid cases just really get to him?" The question came from the new, Governor-appointed liaison, Lori Weston.<p>

Danny tore his eyes from the scene of Steve, on horseback, quickly fleeing away from them to glance at the woman. They had just found out that the Jenn Hassley – the missing 15-year-old they had been searching for since yesterday – was with her grandfather – the kidnapper – headed towards a small plane, which her grandfather was planning to use in an escape. As soon as they had heard of the plan, Steve had hopped on a horse and tore out of the compound, with barely a word spoken to him or to Lori.

"Don't missing kid cases get to everyone?" Danny knew what this case meant to Steve. Even before Alex had been kidnapped, Steve – although he had never admitted it – had been ultra-sensitive to missing kid cases, like any parent would be. But this case – its proximity to Alex's disappearance, the closeness in Jenn's age to Alex's – was extra special. Although Steve had shown no signs of distraction – nothing that showed his mind was preoccupied by thoughts of his own experience with being the parent of a missing child – Danny knew it had to be extra tough on his partner. Still, Danny believed wholeheartedly that nothing would affect Steve's ability to do his job and, if that was the kind of dirt that the Governor was hoping to hear reported from Lori, Danny refused to be the one to provide it to her.

"Sure," Lori said as she finished handcuffing the man who had provided the information about the plane. "But –"

"Look," Danny said. "Do you have kids?"

"No."

"Well, we do," Danny told her, taking the man by the arm and starting to walk. "We both have girls." Catching her eye, he continued, "But that doesn't mean it affects the way we do our jobs."

* * *

><p>"Rhea," Steve said, approaching the two women, "there's someone who'd like to meet you." He had just left Jenn Hassley's hospital room, where, along with her adopted parents, he had explained the events surrounding her kidnapping – who the man was who took her; about her biological mother; everything – and, upon hearing the story, Jenn had requested to meet her biological mother.<p>

Steve and Lori followed Rhea Carver into the hospital room. Seeing the warm reunion and the overjoyed expression on both Jenn and Rhea's face caused Steve to smile. Even though it still bothered him – and always would – that Cindy had not shown up to see Alex after her kidnapping, he was happy that this girl was back safe with the parents who raised her and the woman who saved her by giving her up for adoption. They stepped out of the room and, checking his watch, he explained to Lori that he had to make a stop upstairs before heading back to Headquarters. Reaching the floor that housed the outpatient clinics, Steve left Lori in the waiting area and headed to the office where Alex had her follow-up appointment.

Twenty minutes later, Steve was introducing Lori to his daughter as they exited the hospital and headed for the parking lot. Before he had even pulled out of the parking lot, Alex was inquiring about the case.

"Did you find her?" Alex asked, catching his eye in the rearview mirror.

"Yes," Steve answered. "We did."

"Will she be okay?" Alex had seen a news story yesterday that reported the girl's kidnapping. The report had also stated that the missing girl had a medical condition that required she take medicine which she did not have with her. Alex had been riveted by the story, especially when she found out that her dad was working the case. As a result, she had followed the story all day yesterday and again this morning, until she had to head to the hospital for her appointment.

"Yes," Steve assured her, "she'll be okay."

"Good," Alex said, smiling, before stating, "Stupid kidnappers."

Steve didn't –couldn't –reply to her. Instead, he waited and prepared himself for the question he sensed would be coming. Finally, a couple of minutes later, it did.

"Were her parents at the hospital?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Both of them?" Alex asked, her gaze focused out the side window.

"Yes," he told her, his anger at Cindy starting to rise to the surface again. He knew what Alex was doing – knew why she was asking these questions – and it angered him that Cindy had given her reason to ask them.

"Even her Mom?"

Steve didn't answer her right away, not until she met his eye in the rearview mirror. "Yes, even her Mom." Stopping at a light, he turned around to look at her. "Even her biological mother was there to meet her."

"That's good," Alex returned, dropping eye contact with him and returning her eyes to the view of Honolulu out her window. "It's good she has that many people who care about her."

"Yeah," Steve replied quietly, turning around to face the front. Silence grew inside the vehicle as he navigated the downtown streets. He wanted to talk to his daughter – about his talk with Alyssa; about her mother – but, with the new hire sitting in the passenger seat next to him, he knew it wasn't the time or the place.

"Dad," Alex's voice finally broke the silence, "can I ask Ms. Weston a question?"

Steve caught her eye in the mirror again and, giving her a confused look, asked, "Why wouldn't you be able to?"

She shrugged. "It might sound rude. Or disrespectful maybe."

He thought for a few moments. "I guess that's up to her," he said, deflecting the question to Lori.

Turning around to face the girl, Lori asked, "What's your question?"

"Well," Alex started, "if this sounds disrespectful, I'm sorry; I don't mean it to."

"Okay," Lori said, smiling at her. There was something to be said about a kid who was concerned with whether she would come across as disrespectful or not. "Ask away."

Glancing at her father, Alex said, "You're the nark that Governor Denning hired to keep an eye on my Dad, right?"

"Alex!" Steve exclaimed, shaking his head disapprovingly. Looking at Lori, he then said, "You don't have to answer that."

"It's okay," Lori told him.

"No, it's not," Steve replied. Looking at his daughter in the mirror, he said, "Alex, you shouldn't ask stuff like that."

"Why not?"

"Because I said so," he answered. "Besides she's not a nark."

"Oh, that's right," she replied, "You said she referred to it as babysitting." Yesterday, when he had gotten home she had asked about his meeting with the governor. That was how she had found out that Governor Denning had assigned a new employee to her Dad's team and, after asking him repeatedly to tell her about the new lady, he had finally told that Officer Weston had referred to her new job as babysitting.

Stopping at another light, he turned to face her. "You know, you don't need to repeat everything I tell you."

Ignoring him, she retorted, "In a way, babysitters and narks are the same thing." Seeing his exasperated expression, she explained, "When I was little, if I did something wrong when a babysitter was watching me, you or Mom would find out about it. Narks pretty much do the same thing, only they inform the police." Glancing at Lori, she continued, "Her job is to watch everything you do and then report it to the Governor."

Steve sighed and turned around. Sometimes there was just no point in arguing with her, especially when she made valid points.

"My role is to act as a liaison," Lori explained, looking at the teenager.

"Well, my dad's good at his job so –"

"Alex!" Steve exclaimed again. "Not another word about this. Got it?"

Alex rolled her eyes. "But, Dad, I –"

"I know exactly what you're trying to do, Alex," Steve told her. "I appreciate it but you don't need to stick up for me." He sent her a look in the mirror when she mumbled something snarky under her breath. He shook his head in annoyance as he made the last turn before Headquarters.

"Fine," Alex said, frustrated, turning her attention back outside. "Can we go running tonight?"

Pulling into a parking spot, Steve shook his head. "You heard the doctor – another two weeks."

Taking her seat belt off, she said, angrily, "I can't do anything thanks to stupid kidnappers. This sucks!"

* * *

><p>"When was she abducted?" Lori Weston asked Steve. They were now in his office, after Steve had consoled his daughter outside of headquarters. The girl was now in the hall, talking with Jenna, and, having been witness to the conversation in Steve's truck, Lori decided to try to get better insight into the way McGarrett operated.<p>

Steve looked up at her from his spot in his desk chair. So the Governor had more than trust issues with him. This, too, was part of what Governor Denning was trying to do when he brought Lori Weston on board – he was going to use her to determine if, at any point, his ability to do this job was affected by personal matters. He couldn't really hold that against Lori, though; she was only doing the job assigned to her. He decided to play the game, for now. "Two weeks ago."

"Well, I'm glad her story ended well," Lori replied.

"Look, Lori," Steve said, standing up to face her. "I get that you a have a job to do, but so do I. If Governor Denning is questioning my ability to separate my personal and professional lives, then know this: regardless of what is going on in my personal life, I always give 110% in every case we catch. Even if my daughter had never been kidnapped, I would have approached Jenn Hassley's case the exact same way that I did." He glanced out of his office windows at the television. The HPD press conference regarding Kono was due to start any minute now. Looking back at Lori, he said, "Maybe once you've worked with me a little longer you won't –"

She interrupted him. "I believe you, Steve."

* * *

><p>"You up for a walk?" Steve asked his daughter as they left the building. "There's something I want to talk to you about."<p>

"I thought you were sticking by what the doctor said," Alex said, still fuming a little about being forced to restrict her activity. She was bored all the time and, thanks to her stupid bruised ribs, she was now going to have to be bored for another two weeks.

"A walk won't hurt you," Steve replied, draping his arm around her shoulders and leading her in the opposite direction of the parking lot. Reaching the end of the building, they turned left down a side street. "So, your friend Alyssa called me."

He waited for a response, hoping it was enough impetus to make her open up to him. After several minutes of absolute silence, he decided to proceed. "Why didn't you tell me your Mom is in Honolulu?"

At this, Alex stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to quell the anger that had suddenly arisen inside of her, she moved over to a bench and sat down. Joining her, Steve waited for her to say something. When she did, it wasn't an answer to his question. "Did Alyssa also tell you that Mom got married?"

Steve nodded. "Yes, she did." When he had talked to his daughter's friend, Alyssa had told him that they had just found out that Cindy had gotten married during her trip to Paris. Not only had Cindy kept the wedding a secret from everybody, including Alex, but she also had failed to mention it to him on the phone and, more importantly, had also failed to come visit Alex, even though she had been in Honolulu with her new husband for a week. Instead, she had lied to him and to their daughter the last time she had spoken with them.

Meeting his eye, she said, "It's the real reason they went to Paris and she didn't even want me there."

"I know," Steve told her, his heart hurting from the pain in her voice. "Come on, Alex, talk to me."

Alex sighed and looked away. "This is new to me, Dad."

He didn't understand. "What do you mean?"

"This," she repeated. Meeting his eye again, she explained, "Having a parent who actually cares about what's going on."

That wasn't quite what he had expected to hear. He gave himself a few moments as he thought about how to respond. He knew she and Cindy had been having some problems – Cindy's refusal to come see Alex after her kidnapping had told him that – but for Alex to say what she just did took their issues to a while other level. "How long have things been bad with your Mom?"

Alex played with a loose thread on the thinned out bandage on her hand. Shrugging, she answered, "I don't know, three years maybe." She shook her head. "It's not even like we see each other all that much because she's never home, but when she is around all she does is yell at me. All we do is fight."

"Three years?" He asked. He had visited her two years ago but she had never mentioned anything about having issues with her mother and in all the conversations they had had since then, he had never been given any indication that something was wrong. "You never said anything."

Alex nodded. Of course she hadn't said anything to him – why would she? It wasn't like they ever talked about stuff like that. "We talk about school or the weather or what our plans are for the weekend. We don't ever talk about stuff like that, Dad." She rubbed her eye and then looked at him. "How was I supposed to tell you that Mom hates me?"

"Your Mom doesn't hate you, Alex," Steve said, reaching over and brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. "She loves you. She just – she has a hard way of showing it I guess." _Just like my Dad did._

"Well," Alex said, without a second thought, "she hates you and she tells me all the time that I'm just like you. So…" She trailed off.

Steve locked eyes with her, really seeing for the first time how much Cindy had been hurting their daughter. He should have been able to pick up on the fact that the two were warring with each other. He felt like a failure all over again.

Alex finally broke eye contact and spoke. "It's why I know how to cook and why I know how to fix stuff around the house." Her mom was usually at work before she woke in the morning and, many times, didn't come home until she was in bed for the night. Unless she was invited over to the Boyer's or to her friend Brian's for dinner, she was usually left to fend for herself. She had been forced to teach herself how to cook because microwave dinners had never worked for her. Even on many weekends, she had been left at home, left to clean the entire apartment by herself, left to fix whatever appliance had broken, like the dishwasher she had to fix the week before she left for Hawaii. She had even been the one to change the locks on the front door and the one to install the new surround system that David had bought for them, all because her mother refused to spend the money to hire someone to come do those things. "If I'm not with the Boyers or at Brian's, then I'm by myself, doing everything by myself, because she's either always working or traveling for work."

"I had no idea, Alex," he told her. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault." She looked at him again and then reached into her pocket to pull out the photo. Handing it to him, she said, "This is what Chin brought me that night." The night she had gotten her hand re-stitched, Chin had stopped by the house to update her Dad on what they had discovered at the cabin after he had taken her to the hospital. He had also brought her the picture that she had lost up there; he had found it inside the cabin. At the time, her Dad had wanted to know what it was and she had refused to tell him.

Steve took the photo from her and looked at it. It was a picture of him, his father, and Alex, taken when Alex was eight years old. He remembered that trip to Seattle well – he, along with his father, had taken Alex camping in the Olympic National Forest – and, despite arguing with his father every night after Alex had fallen asleep in their tent, they had all enjoyed themselves. They had gone horseback riding, taken short hikes; Alex had even caught her first fish on that trip, although, afterwards, she had cried when she realized the hook had "hurt the fish".

"I keep it with me every day," Alex explained, scooting closer to him to look at the photo with him. "I had it when they took me and I thought I lost it forever but Chin found it." Looking up at him, she said, "I know it's stupid but looking at it – thinking about you and Grandpa – gave me the strength to endure the pain. When they let me go, I thought about the picture and I remembered how you guys made the fire." She laughed tremulously. "It's stupid."

"It's not stupid at all, Alex," he told her, kissing her on the temple. "Anything that helped you make it back to me is not stupid." He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer.

* * *

><p>Author's Note:<p>

*The Artful Dodger is a character from the novel Oliver Twist, written by Charles Dickens, and is considered one of the most famous fictional pickpockets.


	9. Chapter 9

Now that Alex had finally opened up to him about everything going on back at home in Seattle, the voice in the back of his mind that had been whispering to him over the last couple of days was now yelling at him, trying to convince him to make the decision that would change everything. Before he would face that option head on, he needed to be sure that it was what would be best for his daughter. All he had ever wanted was for her to be happy and whatever decision he made would be the one that guaranteed her happiness.

That afternoon on the bench they had talked for a good two hours. After she had returned the photo to her pocket, she had opened up to him in a way that she never had before. She had wanted to know if he agreed with Cindy about her, Alex, being just like him. She had pointed out that, obviously, she looked just like him, but that she didn't know enough about him to know if what her mother told her was the truth. She admitted that she had so many questions about him – about his interests, about his views on a variety of topics, about the kind of person he was – and that, by learning those things, maybe she would be able to understand herself a little better.

She had expressed that she was tired of being made to feel like everything she did, everything she liked to do, was wrong. Her mother hadn't allowed her to join the cross-country team at school and she hadn't allowed Alex to ride her bike with her friends. Alex had admitted to lying to Cindy – to both of them – on numerous occasions as to where she had spent time with her friends, because if Cindy had known of their plans to go indoor rock climbing or paintballing or anything of the sort, she would not have been allowed to participate. Basically, from the way it sounded, Cindy was opposed to anything Alex expressed interest in that even remotely reminded her of him. Cindy was a businesswoman who not only inherited a fortune but also managed to build a company that netted her well over seven figures a year, and, evidently, she kept trying to impress upon Alex her own interest in making – and keeping – as much money as possible.

Alex had asked him if he had always felt that sense of duty that had drawn him to service in the Navy. He had told her that, when he was young, he had wanted to follow in his father's footsteps and become a cop. In that way, yes, he had always felt a call to duty, but he hadn't been drawn to the Navy until he was older, when he was about her age, with that calling having been exponentially increased after his mother had been killed. She had told him that she had always felt like she should be doing something to help other people, whether it was buying a meal for some homeless person they passed on the street, or volunteering at a soup kitchen, or spending time reading to an elderly person at a nursing home. She said she had always felt called to something beyond herself, something more important than making money, and, of course, when she had told her mother that, Cindy had reacted negatively and had tried to discourage Alex from her interest in service to others.

He felt that he had learned more about his daughter in the two hours they had spent talking than he had over the course of her entire life. The more he heard about Cindy, and the way she treated their daughter, the more upset he became. No child should feel like their interests don't matter. No child should be made to feel like it was wrong to express who they are. A parent should be their child's biggest supporter, their biggest source of encouragement, and, not that he was perfect – God knew how many mistakes he had made with his daughter – but Cindy was emotionally destroying Alex. He didn't understand why – he couldn't wrap his mind around how bitter, hurtful, and mean Cindy had become – but he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Now driving home, he glanced over at his daughter. That beautiful girl, with her strength, resiliency, intelligence, humor, and cleverness, had managed to capture his heart all over again. If she were to ask him again if he thought she was just like him, he would have to tell her no. Yes, they had a lot of common interests, and had similar viewpoints on things, but she was a better person than him, better than he could ever aspire to be. She would be his greatest legacy. He owed it to her to ensure that she would never again question or doubt those most beautiful parts of herself.

* * *

><p>In the three days since their conversation on the bench, Steve had noticed a change come over his daughter. Alex seemed happier – more at peace – as if a huge burden had been lifted from her shoulders. In a way, it had: she no longer was carrying the secret of her ailing relationship with her mother. Having shared that pain with him, she was more carefree and upbeat. She was no longer snippy, short-tempered, or angry and, not that it was related to her situation with Cindy, but Alex's short-lived nightmares had vanished. She had even decided that she wanted to stay home by herself again; no longer was she afraid of stepping out the front door and encountering the face of her kidnapper again.<p>

The last three days had been extremely busy at work, with him having to leave the house early in the morning and not returning until late in the evening. As a result, they had not been able to spend much time together but he had made sure to call her several times throughout the day to check on her and, each time they spoke, she had been lively, funny, and sweet. By sharing her pain with him, Alex had allowed him to see her true personality – that one he had seen on her first weekend there when they went Zip Lining, ridden their bikes through Manoa Valley, and hiked up to Manoa Falls – and he felt reassured knowing that Cindy had not succeeded in crushing their girl's spirit. He had gone ahead and registered her for the camp that Danny had mentioned to him – it would keep her busy for a week, starting on Monday – and, even though her injuries required that she had to be cautious with what she did, Alex could not stop talking about all of the fun things she would be doing.

Everything was going great, which was why, after having just stepped out of the shower, he hadn't thought twice about yelling to Alex to answer the door when the doorbell rang. It wasn't until he had toweled off, gotten dressed, and stepped out of the bathroom and into the living room, that he regretted having told her to answer the door. In the middle of the room, facing their daughter, and with blonde hair shorter than the last time he had seen her, stood Cindy. This was going to be bad, he could tell. Alex had told him that she didn't want to see her mother and he couldn't blame her – Cindy had not spoken with the girl since she got off the plane nearly four weeks ago.

"I thought you said you would call if you were going to stop by," Steve said, referring to the agreement they had made on Sunday when he had tracked her down at her hotel. That had been the first time he had seen her in over two years and his first impression of her had been that, while still as gorgeous as ever, she looked older than she should have for her age. The changes he noticed in her were subtle and someone who had not known Cindy as intimately as he had at one point probably would not have noticed: her hair was thinner and duller; her face, paler; her skin, less vibrant; her eyes, colder. Those changes made her appear sad, as if the years had hardened her, and, for a moment, he had felt that old twinge of concern for her. That concern had disappeared the moment she had greeted him with a scowl and then proceeded to start yet another fight with him.

"It's early," Cindy replied with a glance toward him, "I didn't think you'd be home from work already."

That was a true statement – they had finished their case just after lunch-time so he had given the team the afternoon off, unless, of course, they were called to another case. Regardless, that didn't give her the right to change their agreement.

"So it's okay for you to renege on our agreement because you didn't think I'd be here?" Steve asked her, arms crossed in front of him. He gave her a look. "That's not how this works and you know it."

"Don't lecture me, Steve," Cindy replied, matching his look with one of her own.

And, just like that, they were arguing again.

* * *

><p>Hanging up with the person on the other end, Alex tossed the cordless phone onto her bed and returned her attention to the screaming match that had been going on downstairs for nearly ten minutes. She hated this. She hated hearing her Mom scream at her Dad – as she did every time she was on the phone with him – and this time it was even worse because he was yelling back. She couldn't take it anymore. She walked out of her room to the second floor landing. "Stop it!" She screamed, looking down at them.<p>

"Why can't you just get along?" Having gotten their attention, she turned back to her room, slamming the door shut behind her.

When they entered her room, Alex was lying on her side in bed, facing the wall. Cindy, stepping into the room before Steve, sat on the bed next to her and nudged her in the ribs to get her to turn over, causing Alex to wince at the pain.

"Cindy, her ribs," Steve said, taking a step forward and sitting on the bed, closer to Alex's head. He placed a comforting hand on her back.

Cindy looked at Steve like it was the first time she was hearing about the injury. She slid Alex's shirt up to reveal the trail of now green and yellow bruises on the girl's side. "My God, Alexandra, what did they do you?" When Alex didn't answer, Cindy turned the question to Steve. "What did they do to her? You never –"

"I told you about every single one of her injuries," Steve interrupted, recognizing the look on Cindy's face. "Don't act like I didn't."

"What did they do to her?" Cindy's question was answered by a shake of the head from Steve.

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"They hurt her, Cindy. It doesn't matter how," Steve said, a hint of pain entering his voice. "They hurt her. That's enough to make me want me want to track them down and make them pay for what they did."

"But –"

"When she's ready to talk about it, I'll listen," Steve said, nodding down towards their daughter. "And if she's never ready to talk about it, that's okay, too." What their daughter needed more than anything right now was love and support. Alex needed to know that it was okay to not talk about her experience, if she didn't want to. Meeting Cindy's eye, and again recognizing that look in her eye, he warned her, "Don't even think about pushing her into talking about it until she's ready."

Standing up, posed for yet another argument, Cindy raised her voice and looked down at him. If looks could kill, Steve would have dropped dead that very moment. "Don't tell me how –"

She was interrupted by Alex's pained voice. "Why are you here?"

Cindy turned her attention to the girl who once shared her hair color and, who, at one time, she got along with. "What do you mean why am I here?"

Rolling over and sitting up, Alex looked up at her mother, not caring any longer if what she was going to say would upset her or not. "Is the only reason you're here because Dad went to see you the other night? Did you only come here to fight with Dad?"

It took Cindy a moment to know how to reply. Ignoring the first question, she answered, "No, I came to see you, to see how you're doing." She sat back down next to Alex and started to rub the girl's back.

Shrugging off her mother's touch, Alex stood up. Her feelings were a cross between anger, confusion, and shame. "I don't believe you."

"First off, watch your tone. Just because you're upset that your Dad and I were fighting does not mean you get to be disrespectful." Cindy scolded. "And, secondly, I'm your mother; I was worried about you."

Not caring how much she'd be in trouble later, Alex continued questioning her mother's motives. "Would you even have told me you were in Hawaii if Dad didn't go see you?" Not getting a response quickly enough, she continued, "I don't think you would have."

Steve caught a look from Cindy. She was crazy if she really thought he was going to have her back in this. This was about more than just the last few weeks; more than about Cindy not calling Alex after she was found safe. It was more than Cindy keeping it a secret that she was in a hotel twenty minutes from the house. This was the culmination of whatever had been going on between the two over the last few years. This was Alex finally letting out the pain that Cindy had been causing her. And it allowed Steve to gain better insight on the whole situation.

"Why do you think that?" Cindy finally said, not getting any help from Steve.

"Because you were too busy with your new husband," Alex answered, which earned a look of surprise on Cindy's face.

"You told her?" Cindy asked Steve.

Steve shook his head. "She knew before I did."

Really angry now, Alex started to get loud. "You lied about the real reason you went to Paris!" It was obvious to both Steve and Cindy that she was struggling to hold in the tears.

"You were coming to see your Dad, Alexandra. It wouldn't have mattered if—"

"You didn't want me there," Alex pointed out, sadness and shame being expressed in her voice. Then, blinking away the tears, she continued to yell. "You didn't even care that I was kidnapped! You didn't even call to check on me!"

Cindy took a deep breath. "I couldn't call. David and I were slammed with business meetings and you know how busy we get." She stood up and faced her daughter, reaching out to grab Alex's good hand. "He's my husband now. I can't just drop—"

Breathing heavy from anger, Alex looked at her in disbelief. "Last time I checked I was your daughter long before David ever came into your life." She pushed past Cindy. She had to get out of there. Steve stood up and reached out a hand to comfort her but Alex shook him off. "Just leave me alone."

Watching Alex leave, Steve was in disbelief. He was angry. Did Cindy really just say that David took priority over their daughter? After Alex left the room, he turned his attention to the woman he no longer recognized, to the woman that had changed so much from the woman he once loved. "What is wrong with you?"

"With me?" Cindy asked, turning an accusatory face to him. "Maybe if you would support my decision to raise her to have some manners –"

Steve held his hand up. "This has nothing to do with me and you know it." Crossing his arms in front of him, he continued, "This is about you and the way you treat her." He shook his head. "She's your daughter, Cindy. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?"

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry I took you away from whatever you were doing," Alex told Danny, taking a bite of the cherry flavored shaved ice he had bought her from Kamekona's. After walking out of her bedroom, she had left the house, so angry she had forgotten about her phone call to Danny. As she started down the walkway, Danny pulled up, and, seeing how upset she was, Danny put her in his car and headed away from the house, finally deciding to take her to Kamekona's for a snack and respite from whatever was going on at Steve's house.<p>

"I wasn't doing anything, Alex," Danny told her. He knew Steve would worry when he discovered Alex wasn't at the house so, while they were waiting in line at Kamekona's, he had texted Steve to let him know he had the girl, and that she was safe. He told him where they were in case Steve wanted to pick her up otherwise Danny had no problems keeping Alex with him until things calmed down with Cindy.

During the drive, Alex hadn't said much and he had given her the silence she needed to calm down. He hadn't spent a lot of time with her, but he knew enough about her to know that if she needed to talk, she would let him know.

Alex looked at him from across the table. "Aren't you supposed to be with Grace?"

Danny nodded. "Later. Once she or Rachel calls to tell me she's ready to be picked up." Tonight was the night he would be getting Grace for an entire two weeks by himself while her mother and step-father were out of town. He was looking forward to spending the weekend with her before dropping her off at camp on Monday.

"Do you get along with Grace's mom?" Alex knew that was a stupid question. They were divorced, so obviously the answer was no. She realized that she was probably also out of line for asking such a personal question, but she asked anyway. "I mean, do you guys fight a lot?"

"Depends on your definition of 'a lot'," Danny replied. "I mean, yes, we do fight sometimes." Alex nodded in understanding. "But we don't do it in front of Grace," he continued, answering what he knew Alex was really asking.

"Yeah," Alex said, taking another bite of shaved ice. "Dad's usually pretty good at not fighting in front of me. Mom's a different story." They were quiet for a few minutes. Alex had her attention focused on the beach; Danny just sat quietly, not entirely sure what to say.

Finally, Alex met his eye. "Do you know why my Mom hates him so much?"

Danny shook his head. "I've never met your mother and your Dad doesn't really talk about their relationship."

"He doesn't really talk about a lot of things," Alex mumbled, looking past Danny and staring at the horizon. _Especially Grandpa. _On second thought, that wasn't entirely true – they had talked about a lot of stuff the other day. "I mean, sometimes he does," she corrected herself, "just not always the stuff I wish he would talk about."

Danny reached out and touched her hand. Getting her attention, he said, "Your Dad loves you very much, Alex." Looking past her and towards the parking area, he continued, "Speaking of, he's here."

Alex turned around slowly, holding her side in attempt to alleviate the pain, to see her dad climbing out of his truck and, behind him, getting out of her rental car, her mother was talking on a cell phone. She expelled a shaky breath before turning back to face Danny. "Thanks, Uncle Danny," she said, cracking a smile for the first time since he had picked her up.

"You don't have to thank me," he told her, "but you're welcome."

* * *

><p>Getting out of his truck, Steve headed towards the table where Danny and Alex were sitting, not even bothering to look at Cindy. He was so angry, so upset with how she had treated their daughter, he could care less if she followed him to the table or not. She could trip in her high heels for all he cared. After Alex had walked out of her room earlier, he had laid into Cindy, not only for what she had said, but also for not being there for Alex when she came home from the hospital. Alex had never vocalized it but she had needed her mother in those first few days. Cindy had let their daughter down when she needed her the most. Of course, Cindy had yelled back at him, because, really, when had she ever not, and they only stopped arguing when Steve received Danny's text message. Saved by Danny, once again.<p>

Reaching the table, he sat down next to his daughter, stretching an arm around her in a hug and kissing her on the top of her head. "You okay?"

"Yes," Alex answered, meeting his eyes briefly before looking at Danny, "thanks to Uncle Danny."

"Anytime, Alex," Danny answered, "you know that." His phone, sitting on the table, started to ring. He picked it up and answered it. "Hey, Monkey."

* * *

><p>While she listened to her husband's voice on the phone, Cindy watched as Steve joined their daughter at the picnic table. She watched as he hugged her and kissed her on the top of her head. When the man with them – was that the Detective Williams that had called her about Steve's arrest? – began talking on the phone, Steve and Alex talked and shared whatever was in the dish on the table. It panged her a bit to watch because it reminded her that it had always been so easy for Steve to interact with their daughter. Alex had always been so different, so at ease, when Steve was around. She had never quite understood the girl, not the way Steve could, and many times she struggled with knowing how to relate to her. There were times when she didn't know what to say to her when she'd asked for advice or just told her about her day. At times she didn't know when to hug Alex, when to comfort her, when to scold her or when to let things go. Steve – and his Dad – especially his Dad – had always been good at that; it had always come so easy to Steve.<p>

Being a father had come so naturally to Steve while she had always struggled with what should have been the most simplest of motherly duties. It had only gotten worse as Alex got older – as she became more like her father every day – and she knew she was losing her daughter. That was the real reason she had sent Alex to Hawaii for the summer. Maybe Steve could give their daughter what she couldn't. Maybe they both would finally realize the strength of their bond and, maybe, somehow, discovering that connection with her Dad, would bring Alex back to her and make it easier for both of them when Alex came back home.

"Okay, Babe," Cindy said into the phone. "I'll call you when I'm leaving here."

* * *

><p>"I'm with her and Uncle Steve right now, actually," Danny said into the phone to his daughter, looking at the two people sitting across from him. "Sure, I will ask them." Getting Steve's attention, he asked, "You two have any plans for dinner? Grace wants the four of us to go eat some place."<p>

Steve shook his head. "Sounds good to me."

Seeing the blonde woman walking towards them, Danny stood up. "See you in two hours?" Steve nodded in agreement and Danny, before walking away, mumbled, "Good luck."

"Can I sit?" Cindy asked her daughter when she reached the table.

"I don't know, can you?" Alex replied. She was still upset about her Mom admitting that David was more important to her than she was. If they were back in Seattle, she would make sure she was extra polite and respectful, but here, after what had just taken place at her Dad's house, she could care less.

Steve nudged her with his elbow. "No attitudes, Alex; be nice."

Glaring at him, Alex said, "Fine. Yes, you can sit."

Sitting down on the other side of the table facing her daughter, Cindy said, "Thank you. And don't glare at your father."

_Great, now the parent tag-team,_ Alex thought to herself as she turned her eyes downward to focus on her cup of shaved ice. The only thing worse than listening to them fight with each other was when they pretended to get along just to team up against her. This whole situation just sucked.

The three of them sat there in silence for several minutes. Alex distracted herself with eating her shaved ice; Steve directed his attention to a couple of surfers out on the water; Cindy, with a million thoughts running through her mind, just stared at her daughter. Finally, Steve broke the silence and stood up. "I'm going to go get some shaved ice." Catching Cindy's eye, he asked, "Want anything?"

"No, thank you," Cindy said, her focus still on her daughter.

Steve headed over, waited in line for a few minutes, and then gave his order to Kamekona: a cherry-flavored shaved ice and two coconut waters. After taking the order, Kamekona asked, "New girlfriend? She's hot, brah."

"That's Alex's mom," Steve answered, affectless, turning his attention back to the table where Cindy and Alex were sitting.

"Oh, your ex," Kamekona said, filling Steve's order. "That's the worst kind of hot there is."

"Yeah," Steve agreed, before taking his purchased items off the counter. He thanked Kamekona and headed back to the table.

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry, Alex," Cindy said finally. That earned her nothing more than a brief glance from the teenager. "I should have told you about the wedding."<p>

Alex didn't answer. So that's what her mom was apologizing for – keeping the wedding a secret – instead of addressing the real reason she was upset. Her mom really didn't know her at all; didn't understand anything at all.

"Alex," Cindy finally said, reaching out and touching the girl's hand. "I'm talking to you."

"It's over and done with, Mom," Alex said, refusing to meet her mother's eye. "If you're happy that's all that matters."

"It's rude to not look people in the eye, young lady," Cindy scolded. This whole afternoon had gone to hell and she had no more patience for dealing with a moody, disrespectful teenager.

Alex sighed and looked at her mother. "Yes, Ma'am." That was the moment that Steve returned to the table. Giving Cindy a questioning look, he set the cup of shaved ice and the two coconut waters on the table, sliding one over to Alex, before taking his seat next to her. He smiled at Alex when she thanked him.

Choosing to ignore the look from Steve, Cindy spoke to her daughter. "I _am_ happy, Alex, and so is David."

"That's great, Mom," Alex said, giving her a smile. As angry as she was with her, she was still her Mom and she deserved to be happy. Even if she personally thought David was a jerk.

"Thanks," Cindy said, returning her smile. "Although, I have to admit that I am surprised by your reaction considering how you feel about David."

Alex took a sip of the water. "Like I said, as long as you're happy that's all that matters."

It took Cindy several moments to reply. Here was a girl who, not even an hour ago, was yelling at her and, now, she genuinely appeared to be happy for her. The extreme change in attitude of the teenager was one she should be used to by now, but, still, sometimes it surprised her. "Why don't you like David?"

Alex shrugged. There was no way she was going to answer that question. She knew enough to trust her gut and something about him had always rubbed her the wrong way. Her mother would never understand that. "Why don't you like Dad?"

Cindy sighed. Here they go again with Alex deflecting their conversation to one about Steve. She just didn't have the energy at the moment to do anything but play Alex's game. Not that Alex would appreciate the answer. "That's between the two of us." Looking at Steve, she continued, "And I think your father would agree. Right, Steve?"

Steve, caught just having taken a bite of shaved ice, nodded and then, swallowing, said, "She's right, Alex." God, how it pained him to say that. "Some things about what's happened between your mother and me aren't for you to know."

"Fine," Alex said, not at all happy with that answer. She decided to test her Mom's ability to be honest with another question. "Then tell me this: why is it that nothing I do is ever good enough for you?"

Next to her, she could sense her dad tense up. She guessed she wasn't the only one who wanted to know the answer to that question. It wasn't quite so easy to gauge her mother's reaction to the question. Roughly ninety percent of the time it was so easy for her to read her mom's face, but in certain circumstances like this one where she questioned her mother's behavior towards her, she couldn't get a good read on her. She decided to be patient and wait for the response.

"I love you, Alex." The response that Alex finally received did not sit well with her. In fact, it angered her all over again.

"You know," Alex said, maintaining eye contact with her mother, "for as much time as you spend telling me you're nothing like Dad, you sure do have some things in common."

Cindy gave her a confused look. "What?"

Standing up, Alex answered, "He intentionally chooses to not answer some of my questions, too." With that, she picked up what remained of her shaved ice, tossed it in the garbage can, and walked away.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: This chapter has a brief mention of sensitive subject matter - sex trafficking. Just a warning.**

* * *

><p>"You really need to talk to her about her attitude," Cindy told Steve as she watched Alex walk away from the table.<p>

"I will," Steve replied, finishing off Alex's coconut water. "I have," he emphasized. "But I understand why she's angry with you."

Cindy turned her attention to him. "Of course you do," she said bitingly. "This coming from the man who can never seem to do any wrong."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"In her eyes you're perfect," Cindy replied. "You're the guy who shows up once or twice a year, or who pays for her to come visit, and then takes her to do something fun. I'm the disciplinarian; you're the fun parent. You never give her any reason to be angry with you."

Wow, if Cindy really believed what she just said then she really was clueless about his relationship with their daughter. Yes, he had always made sure Alex had a good time when they were together, but he had no problems disciplining her, too. He took his role as a father seriously and, even though he hadn't physically been there for most of her life, his job was still to cover all facets necessary for a child's development: sensitivity in some situations, tough love in others; instilling in her values of honesty, integrity, respect, tolerance, hard-work, and taking responsibility for her actions; practicing patience, open-mindedness, and acceptance; doing his best to not judge her; teaching her right and wrong; and when she needed it, he disciplined her.

"You're kidding me, right?" Steve asked, tossing his trash into the garbage can near the table. "She's been angry with me. We've fought – several times already this summer – and I bet you there's a lot more anger inside of her that's directed at me. She just hasn't expressed it yet."

Cindy maintained eye contact with him for a few moments, not saying anything at first. Glancing past him, she spoke. "She does have a habit of keeping things in until she explodes."

Steve nodded. "Well, she is our daughter." He leaned back, stretching out his back. "I think we've both been guilty of doing that a time or two," he said, with a small, amused smile on his face.

"Yeah," Cindy acknowledged, returning his smile, before saying, "What is she doing?" From their location, they could see inside the shaved ice shop where Alex was assisting Kamekona with making shaved ice for some customers.

"Looks to me like Kamekona is putting her to work," Steve said, nonchalantly. Turning back around to face Cindy, he caught her look. "Relax; she's fine." When Cindy didn't say anything, he spoke again. "I want to meet David."

"What?" Cindy asked him. "Why?"

"Because you're married now," Steve replied. "And I deserve to know anyone who will be living with my daughter."

* * *

><p>"How about we meet for dinner tomorrow night?" Cindy asked her daughter as they stood in the parking area. Once the line at the shaved ice shop had died down, she and Steve had gotten Alex's attention, meeting her at their vehicles. Alex was still in a bad mood, although it seemed that helping out at the shop had lessened her anger just a bit. "I was thinking maybe your Dad could drop you at the La Mer in Waikiki; it'll give you a chance to use your French."<p>

Alex's face lit up at her suggestion. "Really? Just the two of us?" They hadn't done anything with just the two of them in a long time.

Cindy shook her head, her daughter's face falling as she answered. "No. David has to eat, too."

"Can Dad come too, then?" Alex asked, glancing to her left at her dad.

"I don't know if that's a good idea."

"I think it is," Alex argued, crossing her arms in front of her in a way that mimicked her father. "If he has to drop me off then he might as well stay." Then, resisting the urge to smirk, she decided to quote her mother. "Besides, he has to eat, too."

"Fine," Cindy said, not wanting to fight with her daughter again. "He can come if he wants." Looking at Steve, she said, "There's a dress code so please lose the cargo pants."

"I'm well aware of what kind of restaurant La Mer is, Cindy," he replied, annoyed by her comment. _An outrageously expensive one, that's what kind. _"But thank you."

"Alright, well, I have to head back to the hotel," Cindy said, stepping forward and hugging her daughter. Alex winced when Cindy squeezed a little too hard. Stepping back, she looked at Steve, "I'll text you with the time for the reservation, okay?" Tucking a strand of hair behind her daughter's ear, Cindy said, "I'm glad you're okay, Alexandra. And I'm glad they found the men who took you." Cindy missed the weird look that passed across both Alex's and Steve's face. "See you tomorrow."

* * *

><p>"Alex," Steve started, getting into his truck. As soon as Cindy had pulled away, Alex had climbed into the truck and forcefully pulled the door shut behind her. "I –"<p>

"I don't want to talk about it," Alex mumbled, looking out the window.

"We don't have to talk about your Mom if you don't want," Steve said, putting his seatbelt on. "But I owe you an apology." When she didn't reply, he said, "Look at me, please."

When she did, he could see anger, disappointment and pain in her eyes. He wondered how much longer she could hold all of her emotions in – not long, he guessed. "I'm sorry for fighting with your Mom earlier."

"I'm not mad at you, Dad," Alex stated, putting her seatbelt on. _Not about that anyway._

"Okay," Steve said, inserting his key into the ignition. "But I still owe you an apology – we should not have argued in front of you." Something else flashed in her eyes, something he couldn't quite recognize.

"Okay, thanks," she said, turning her head to look back outside. "I meant what I said – I don't want to talk about it."

"Yeah," Steve said, turning on the car and pulling out of the parking spot. He'd give her the time and space she wanted but he'd prepare himself for the breakdown that he sensed would be coming soon. As he drove, he kept one eye on Alex, who was growing more fidgety by the minute. She kept shifting in her seat, drumming her fingers on her thigh, tapping her foot – all things that most people would consider signs of Attention Deficit Disorder, but for Alex, had always been a sign of an impending emotional breakdown. Spotting a bank parking lot ahead, and having more than enough time before they had to meet Danny and Grace, he pulled into a spot and parked. He took off his seat belt and just sat there, waiting for her to give into her emotions, waiting for her to talk to him like she had promised him she would when something was bothering her.

"Why doesn't she care about me?" Alex finally asked. Steve knew she wasn't really looking for an answer from him.

"Alex, I –" he started to say. He really had no idea what to say to her. "She –"

"She doesn't care about me, Dad," Alex stated. "So don't try to convince me that she does."

"I won't," Steve replied. "Only you know how you feel and it's not my –"

"People who barely know me – like Kamekona – care more about me than she does." Earlier, when she had left her parents at the table, she had gone to order a bottle of water from Kamekona. When he saw her, her face must have betrayed her emotions, because he had asked what was wrong and then had given her something to do – help him fill orders for customers – to help take her mind off of things. Alex rubbed her eyes, still fighting the tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks. "When you care about someone you listen when they tell you stuff," she said. "You listen when other people tell you about what's going on." Looking at him, she continued, "She didn't do any of that. She never listens!"

"I know –"

"No, you don't!" Alex yelled, her face turning red as she clenched her fists in her lap. "She didn't listen when you told her about my injuries! She didn't listen to anything! Because of her my ribs hurt again!" Breathing heavy, she shook her head, her eyes welling up with tears. "She didn't listen and now she thinks my kidnappers are in jail." Her voice getting quiet, she asked, "Why didn't she listen when you told her about them? Why –" She finally gave in, allowing the hurt she had been feeling to reach the surface, letting the tears overflow.

_Stupid center console,_ Steve thought to himself as it impeded his ability to fully embrace his daughter. He opened his door, got out and walked around the front of the truck. Reaching the passenger side, he opened the door, reached around her to undo her seatbelt, and then pulled her to him. Every time Alex cried, it hurt him. All the tears and anger that Alex had been holding onto made that voice in his head return, yelling even louder at him. He knew that he needed to carefully consider what that voice was saying to him. As she cried, he listened to the voice and carefully weighed the pros and cons. The more he thought about it, the more he felt like he knew what choice he would make, what choice he _had _to make, for Alex's sake. Still, he knew he couldn't make that decision in a moment that involved Alex sobbing into his chest or when he was angry at Cindy; he needed a clear mind and a clear heart.

* * *

><p>"How's your head?" Danny asked, as he sat in the passenger seat of his car. Steve had once again commandeered the driver's seat of the car and they were now headed to pick up the girls from their first day of camp, after finally capturing the man who had been eluding them all day.<p>

Jimmy Donaldson, import from Detroit, had been running a sex trafficking ring out of the basement of his Haleiwa home. They had picked up the case late last night when a twenty-something Eastern European girl was found walking, emaciated, bruised and battered, on the North Shore section of the Kamehameha Highway. Somehow she had escaped from the back of a car, after she had served her purpose with that day's fifteen men, and, after a trip to the hospital, a warm meal, and a set of clean clothes, she had been more than forthcoming – thanks to Kono and Lori – with information related to the man who had taken her from Romania three years ago. She hadn't known his name, but she had been able to describe one of the frequent clients well enough to provide a very detailed sketch that allowed them to identify the man as a local pediatrician. With Steve's false promises of a deal – and a well-placed knee to the groin – the man had given up Jimmy Donaldson's name, phone number, and home address. After a quick trip to Steve's that morning – Danny had left Grace there with Alex when they had been called to the scene – to pick up the girls and drop them at camp, they had spent the next six hours tracking, hunting – and often just missing – Jimmy Donaldson, until finally, less than two hours ago they had located him. After a steroid-fueled fist fight with Steve, they had managed to cuff him and cart him off to jail.

"Fine," Steve answered, forcing himself to ignore the constant throbbing in his head.

"Good," Danny answered, before opening his glove box and pulling out a tissue. "You might want to clean off some more of that blood before Alex sees you." Steve had taken a few punches to the head during his fight with Donaldson, one of which had opened a cut on his cheek. Steve had done a pretty good job of covering the bruises, but, if he was going to have any chance of hiding his injuries from his daughter, he needed to clean off more of the dried blood around the small band-aid that covered the cut.

"Thanks," Steve said, taking the tissue and spitting into it. Using the mirror, he started scrubbing the blood off. Hearing the ringer on his cell phone, he asked Danny to check the caller ID.

"It's Cindy," Danny said, picking up the phone out of the cup holder.

"Ignore it," Steve instructed as he finished cleaning his face. Based on today's date, she was probably only calling for one reason and he didn't feel it was necessary to have that discussion yet again with her.

"I guess that's not who you've been waiting to hear from all day," Danny observed, dropping the phone back into the cup holder. All day, when they weren't on a foot race chasing Donaldson, Steve had been checking his phone.

"Nope," Steve answered, stuffing the used tissue in the cup holder with his phone. "I'm sure Cindy checked Alex's bank account today and wants to know where this month's money is."

That wasn't what he had asked, but Danny just went with it. "Wait, doesn't she make like a million bucks a year?"

"Around that, yeah," Steve confirmed.

"And the court ordered you to pay child support to a woman who makes seven figures a year?"

"It's not court ordered," Steve said, checking his side mirror as he shifted lanes. "She's my daughter, Danny." After Cindy and Alex had moved to Washington, he had opened up an account in Alex's name, essentially to help establish a college fund for her, and to help provide for her while he couldn't be there physically. He and Cindy both had access to it online and they both made deposits into it. Cindy put Alex's allowance there every month along with any other money she felt like depositing and he deposited what Cindy referred to as child support, although it was nothing of the sort. She monitored the account every single month and if he had not yet deposited the money on his usual day she bugged him about it until he did. Even if Alex was with him on his usual day for making the deposit, she got pissed off at him. He couldn't remember how many times he had told her that when Alex was with him, he would not be making the deposit; he'd be spending that money on her in that moment. Glancing at him, he explained, "Most of it is her college fund but a small portion of that she can spend on whatever she wants. Only she can make withdrawals from it. With my approval first, of course."

"That's nice, Steve," Danny said, seeing a side of his friend that he hadn't seen before. They sat in silence for a few moments before Danny decided to be nosy. "So, whose phone call have you been waiting on all day?"

"Mary's," Steve said, stopping at a red light. He flipped open the mirror on the visor and peeled back part of his band-aid. He decided to leave it on and just deal with Alex's questions later.

"Mary as in your sister?"

"The one and only," Steve replied, his eyes on the stoplight. "Alex was asking about her and since they've never met I figured I'd call and invite her for a visit." His sister had only been fifteen and living clear across the country when Alex was born and, after that, they had just never worked out a time for them to meet. But then again their family situation hadn't exactly made it easy.

"Your sister has never met your daughter?" Danny asked, incredulous. He knew that Steve and Mary had been shipped off to the mainland after their mother's death, but he had never considered the fact that Steve's sister had never met her niece.

"That's what I said, Daniel," Steve replied, letting off the brake as the light changed.

"She at least knows about her, doesn't she?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "Of course she does."

Wondering if he was pushing his luck, Danny then asked, "What about your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend," Steve replied, knowing full well that Danny was referring to Catherine.

"Ah, that's right," Danny said, shaking his head. "You are opposed to using labels; she's just the woman who shares your bed sometimes."

Steve ignored the last comment but did choose to address Danny's question. "Actually I did have a voicemail from her the night Alex went missing. I guess she found out about it on the news."

"And I'm going to guess that you haven't returned her call," Danny said. When Steve didn't reply, he had his answer. Before he could offer some advice, they pulled into the parking lot near the camp's beachside pickup point.

Looking out his window Steve said, "Badges out, Danny. My daughter's talking to a boy."

* * *

><p>Getting out of the car, Steve adjusted his belt, making sure his badge would be visible to the tall, athletic, brown-haired, baseball cap wearing boy that was talking and laughing with Alex. Seeing Steve's actions, Danny just laughed, which earned him a look from Steve. "Just wait," Steve threatened, scowling. "You have all this to look forward to with Grace."<p>

As if she had heard them, the little brown haired nine year old shouted for her father and came running towards them. Behind her, in the sand, Alex looked in their direction and waved. Then, bending down to pick up her shoes, she headed their way along with the teenage boy and another kid who looked to be that boy's little brother. That boy's hand better have not just touched Alex's.

"Daddy! Uncle Steve!" Grace greeted. Reaching them, she hugged her father first, then Steve.

"Hi, Dad," Alex greeted with a smile as the trio reached them. "Hi, Uncle Danny."

Hi, sweetheart," Steve returned, his eyes on the older of the two boys.

Seeing what his focus was on, she smiled, amused, and then made introductions. "This is Josh," she said, gesturing to the older boy. "And –"

"And this is Sam," Grace said, excitedly, pulling her new friend over towards her dad. Amused, Steve smirked at Danny, and then returned his attention to the boy.

"Nice to meet you, Sir," the boy said, reaching out to shake Steve's hand. He turned to Danny and did the same. Then, looking at his younger brother and nudging him with his arm, he said, "Remember your manners, Sam."

"Sorry, misters," the boy said, sticking out his hand and shaking both of their hands. Then, his eyes grew big as they locked onto Danny's badge. "Are you really a policeman?"

As Danny entertained the younger kids, Alex got her dad's attention and asked, "Can we wait for a little bit until their Dad shows up?"

"You're still waiting on your ride?" Steve asked for confirmation with Josh. As he talked with the boy, Alex slipped her feet into her shoes and bent down to tie them.

"Yes, Sir," the boy replied, removing the Seattle Mariners baseball cap to scratch his head. "He works at Schofield Barracks and something came up with some of his enlisted guys."

"Your Dad's an Army man," Steve commented, his gaze steady as he studied the boy. He hadn't missed the amused smile Alex had given him earlier and he could tell that she was doing her best to stifle a laugh as she tied her shoes. He knew that she was probably thinking him paranoid or obsessed like she had accused him of being when he had asked her about Brian. Regardless of what she might be thinking and regardless of the fact that she was way too young to date, it was his job to screen every single male teenager that came into contact with her, whether she liked it or not.

"Yes, Sir," Josh replied, returning the cap to its place on his head. Then, nodding towards Alex, he said, "Alex said you're a Navy Officer."

"Josh, when's Daddy gonna get here? I'm hungry." Josh looked down at his little brother who was tugging on his hand.

"Soon, Sam," Josh said, taking the backpack off his shoulder. Opening it, he pulled out a granola bar and handed it to his brother. "Here."

"I'm thirsty, too," Sam said, prompting his brother to kneel down and rummage through the bag.

His chance to further study the teenager halted while Josh tended to his brother, Steve turned his attention to his daughter, who by now was standing and studying him. Her eyes locked with his and he could see the questions forming there. She dropped her eyes from his when Grace tugged on her arm and, bending down, listened as the girl whispered in her ear. Straightening, Alex said, "Excuse us; be right back." Grace took her hand and they headed off towards the bathrooms.

"Daddy!" Steve and Danny turned as a man, wearing Army ACU's, climbed out of the blue SUV that had just pulled up behind them. The rank insignia told Steve he was a Lieutenant Colonel and the nametag gave his last name as 'Sullivan'. Holding the open granola bar in one hand, Sam ran to his father, hugged him, and they talked for a few minutes. Then, father and son, walked over to where Josh, Steve and Danny stood.

"Hey, Dad," Josh greeted, zipping up his backpack and slinging it back over his shoulder.

"Daddy," Sam said, taking a bite of the granola bar. Then, with his mouth full, he excitedly reported, "They're policemen."

Sticking out his hand, the man shook Steve and Danny's hand. "Jason Sullivan. My apologies if Sam was overly excited about your badges," he said, referring to his youngest son's obsession with anything related to law enforcement. "It's his latest career aspiration."

"Danny Williams," Danny said, shaking the man's hand. "And Sam wasn't any trouble."

"Steve McGarrett," Steve introduced himself. "Are you a West Point man?"

Rudely interrupting his father as he started to speak, Josh spoke up. "Yes, he is. And, Dad, Mr. McGarrett went to the Naval Academy." Steve looked at the boy, forcing himself to hide his surprise. He'd be having a talk with his daughter to find out what exactly she had told this new friend of hers.

"And my apologies for my oldest son," Jason said, sending his son a look. "He sometimes forgets his manners." Josh glared at his father and then stormed off towards his dad's SUV.

"Teenagers," Jason muttered, shaking his head.

"I know what you mean," Steve said. "My fourteen year old gets the same way sometimes."

"I get what way sometimes?" Steve turned around when he heard his daughter's voice.

"Forget your manners," Steve told her as she reached him.

She rolled her eyes and then looked at the uniformed man standing in front of her, taking in the name on the uniform. "You're Josh's Dad." Shaking his hand, she said, "Nice to meet you, Sir. I'm Alex."

"Nice to meet you, Alex," Jason returned with a smile. Then turning his attention to the younger girl, he squatted down to her level. "And you must be Grace."

Grace looked up at her dad in surprise and then at the man. "How'd you know that?"

"My son, Sam, just told me all about you."

Hearing this Steve found himself biting his lip to keep from laughing and looked at Danny. Danny shot him a look and Steve sent him a smug smile. _That's what you get for laughing at me._

* * *

><p>"So, how was your day?" Steve asked Alex as he pulled out of the parking lot at headquarters. Danny had just dropped them back off at the office, after finally bidding adieu to the Sullivans. After introducing herself to Josh's father, Alex had disappeared to go find her new friend and then had gotten annoyed when Steve had told her they needed to stay where he could see them. Grace and Sam had asked to play for a few more minutes which had left the three men standing near the vehicles, talking. Steve had instantly taken a liking to Jason Sullivan and it appeared they had more than in common than just their military service. He and Danny had found out that Jason was a single father, raising his two boys by himself full-time. They had just relocated to the island five weeks ago, after a three-year stint at Joint Base Lewis-McChord in Tacoma.<p>

During the drive back to headquarters, Grace had controlled the conversation, chatting excitingly about all of the fun she had that day. Of course, every time she mentioned Sam's name, Steve smirked, his goal of irritating Danny achieved. After waiting for Grace to finally finish her story, he and Alex had vacated the car and bid the Williams' goodbye. Now, he was finally getting a chance to speak with his daughter.

"It was good, I guess," Alex told him, looking down at the three-day old cell phone on her lap. Sensing his gaze on her, she looked up and, catching his eye, she apologized, turned the phone off and placed it in her pocket.

"What did you do today?" She didn't seem to be very forthcoming with information. Or maybe that was just his headache talking.

"Just kinda hung out with Grace, Sam, and Josh," she answered. The agenda for the teenage aged group that day had been to go to Dolphin Quest Oahu for snorkeling and swimming. Due to the stitches in her hand that weren't due to come out until next week, she had been unable to participate in either of those activities. When Grace had overheard that Alex would have to go and just sit and watch the other teenagers have fun, she had asked the camp counselors if Alex could go with her to the Aquarium. Having another teenager – Josh – who also was unable to participate due to stitches in his leg and had already been asked by his nervous little brother to accompany him, they had allowed both teens to join the younger kids for the day. "At the Aquarium."

Steve looked at her. "The Aquarium? I didn't think that was on the agenda for your age group."

"It's not, but I couldn't exactly go snorkeling or swimming with my hand this way," she said, needlessly showing him her hand. Catching his eye, she reassured him. "It's okay, though, Josh and I came up with a scavenger hunt game for Grace, Sam and some of the other kids to play while we were there and it was fun to watch them have fun with it."

"Why didn't Josh go snorkeling?"

"He also has stitches that he's getting taken out next week," she replied, before telling him her plans for the next day. "I think I'm gonna help out with the little kids tomorrow, too."

Steve didn't understand. She had been looking forward to having fun and getting to know other kids her age and now she was opting to help babysit third graders.

"I know you're paying for me to attend," Alex told him. "And I'm sorry if you think it's a waste of money since I couldn't participate today and because I don't want to go where they are going tomorrow. I can pay you back for it, if you want."

Steve shook his head. "I'm not concerned about the money, Alex. I'm more concerned with why you don't want to hang out with kids your own age."

"They're going to Ka'a'awa Valley tomorrow."

All it took was one sentence and he understood her choice. "Okay."

Despite him not questioning her, she obviously felt the need to explain. "I know the kidnappers aren't there anymore but most of the teens already stare at me. I'm afraid that if we hike through the jungle I might have a flashback to him kicking me or something. I don't want to give them any more reason to stare at me."

Steve didn't know what to respond to first, especially when his mind kept repeating the word 'kick' over and over again. He just sat there in silence, driving in the direction of the house, until he felt Alex's hand on his arm. Stopping at a light, he looked at her.

"What's wrong, Dad?"

"He kicked you?"

Alex's eyes went wide as she realized what she had said. That certainly wasn't the way she – or her therapist – had imagined that revelation going. _Too late now._ Forcing herself to maintain eye contact, she nodded. "Yeah," she said quietly. "He kicked me."

As anger flowed through his veins, Steve kept his eyes locked onto his daughter's. Where he was sure his eyes betrayed his anger, hurt, and desire for revenge, he used the extraordinary steadiness he found in hers to draw his strength. Hearing a car blast its' horn behind him, he blinked and returned his attention to the road. Clearing his throat, he addressed the other part of her statement. "You said they stare at you?"

Alex nodded. "Yep, all of them except Josh. One of the girls told me that it's because they've never met someone who was kidnapped before." She laughed nervously. "I guess the picture you gave the police to release with the alert was a good one."

He and Alex had never talked about the Maile Amber Alert that had been released to the media when she had been abducted. He hadn't even realized that she knew about the alert; it was the first she had mentioned it to him. He wasn't sure how she felt about it. "I had to, Alex, I –"

"I know you did, Dad," she told him. "It's not a big deal. It's just kind of annoying that they are so fascinated by me." Catching his eye briefly, she continued, "I mean, it's not like I'm that special – tons of kids are taken every day. Kidnappings aren't something to be fascinated by."

"Well, I disagree with you on one point," Steve said, giving her a smile. "I would have to argue that you're very special."

Alex laughed. "Whatever, Dad."

Now on to his big question. "Tell me about Josh."

Alex shrugged. "What do you want to know? He's my age. He just moved from Seattle but they've moved around a lot with the Army. He likes the Mariners but the sport he loves to play is football. He and Sam are being raised by their dad. What else do you want to know?"

"I don't know," Steve replied. "I'm just curious what all you told him – I know you told him I went to the Academy."

"Well, yeah," Alex said, scratching her arm, "one of the things we have in common is that both of our dads are in the military." She thought for a moment, wondering why he was concerned about what she had told Josh about him. "But don't worry, I know I'm not allowed to tell him you're a Seal."

"You're not sworn to secrecy about that," Steve corrected her. "The stuff I've told you about my job is the stuff you're allowed to share with people." Steve was quiet for a few minutes as he debated whether to try his luck or not. Deciding, he asked, "So, is Josh the kind of boy you would be interested in having as a boyfriend?"

"I just met him, Dad," Alex said, giving into a laugh. He really had some serious problems when it came to boys that she was friends with. For some reason, he assumed that every boy she knew was possible boyfriend material. "Besides, I'm only fourteen and I know I can't date until I'm sixteen."

Steve gave her a questioning look. "Sixteen? According to who?"

"To Mom," she answered, before asking a question she already sensed the answer to, "Why? Will you let me date before that?"

"I don't think so, Alex," he replied, shaking his head. She was testing him, he knew that. Two could play that game. "I was actually thinking more along the lines of eighteen."

"What?" she exclaimed loudly. "You can't be serious."

He wasn't; sixteen was a perfectly fine age for her to start dating. But this was the first time he had ever had this conversation with her and he wasn't going to make it so easy on her. "I'm the dad; I make the rules."

Alex didn't reply for a few moments. "But how would that work then?"

"How would what work?"

She looked at him as he came to stop at another stoplight. "Let's say I'm seventeen and I have a boyfriend back home in Seattle and then I come visit you for the summer. Under your rules, would that mean I'd have to break up with him for the time that I'm here?"

His plan backfired on him. Instead, her words had caught him off guard. He was silent as the implications of her statement hit him. Finally, when she lightly hit him on the arm, he came out of it. "What?"

"The light's green." When he started driving again, she looked at him, not quite understanding what had just taken place. "Are you okay? Because you just gave me a really weird look."


	11. Chapter 11

"You've been quiet this week," Danny observed, glancing to his right at Steve. Four days ago Steve had been laughing at him every time Grace had mentioned her new friend Sam. Steve had made it apparent that, while he himself had to worry about his teenage daughter and her relationship with boys, he enjoyed the fact that Danny also apparently had to be concerned because his nine year old was enamored with this new boy. But, since then, Steve had been different: quieter than usual; refraining from arguing with him in the car; actually letting Danny drive his own car; spending a lot of time on the phone in his office; and he had spent a lot of time at his desk carefully reading a large stack of documents. Something was bothering Steve, that was clear.

"I'm just thinking," Steve answered, not offering more, which was typical.

Trying to bring some levity to the situation in the hope that it would help Steve to open up, Danny asked, "Thinking about new ways to get me shot at or blown up?"

"You've never been blown up, Daniel," Steve replied. "You've been near things that have exploded. There's a difference."

"True," Danny agreed, "but you have had me shot at, too many times to count actually." When Steve didn't answer, Danny pushed him for information. "So, what's going on with you?"

"I'm just thinking about something Alex said the other day."

Danny gave him a questioning look. It was times like this when Steve really annoyed him. Clearly, something was bugging the man, but he was so stubborn when it came to opening up and sharing what was on his mind. "You gonna share that with me or…"

Steve sighed. "She talked about going back to Seattle." He looked at Danny and expelled a breath. "And maybe I don't want her to."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"Danny asked. Of course that's what Steve was saying, he knew that, but he wanted to hear it from the man himself.

"Yeah," Steve said with a nod. "I want full-time custody of her."

"What did Alex say?"

Steve shrugged. "Haven't mentioned it to her yet." Then, looking at Danny, he said, hurriedly "Why? Did she say something to you? You don't think she'll want to stay?"

"Relax, buddy," Danny told him. Steve was getting hyper. "She hasn't said anything to me." Grabbing his ringing phone out of his pocket, he said, "I personally think it's a great idea."

"Danny Williams," Danny said into the phone. Listening, his face took on a worrisome look. "Which hospital?" He listened to the person on the other end of the phone and then said, "I'm on my way," before hanging up the phone. "Grace was hurt at camp. She's at Kapiolani." He hit the brakes, performed a U-turn and headed back the way they had just come.

* * *

><p>Danny and Steve heard Grace laughing before they saw her. They had just finished speaking with a nurse and the camp counselor who had brought Grace to the ER after the girl had fallen on the playground. Her fall had resulted in a broken arm but, according to both of the women they had spoken to, Grace was doing very well. Stepping into the exam room, they witnessed the reason for Grace's laughter: Alex, her head, torso and arms wrapped entirely in ACE bandages, was walking like an Egyptian back and forth across the room, stopping every now and then to dance a little jig.<p>

"Daddy!" Grace greeted with a wave of her pink cast covered arm when she saw the men enter the room. Alex, stopping in mid-dance, turned around and waved a bandage-clad arm in their general direction.

"Hey, Monkey," Danny said, reaching his daughter and kissing her on the head. Hugging her, they started to talk.

"Need some help?" Steve asked his daughter, laughing as he snapped a photo of her with his cell phone. Returning the phone to his pocket, he walked over to the girl, who was struggling with unraveling herself. Finding the end of the bandage on her head, he proceeded to unwrap it until finally her eyes – today they had a greenish hue – nose and mouth appeared.

"Thanks," she said, taking a deep breath. It had gotten hard to breathe under all those bandages.

Steve couldn't help himself and laughed again. This time, he was joined by Grace and Danny.

"It's not that funny," Alex stated, locking eyes with her dad as she swiped a bandage-covered arm across her sweaty forehead.

"Is too, Alex," Grace piped up from her seat on the exam table. "It was really funny. Especially that song you sang earlier."

"Song?" Steve asked, getting back to helping free his daughter from her mummy-like state.

"What song?" Danny asked his daughter when he saw that they wouldn't get an explanation from Alex.

"It was about monkeys and seals and Spongebob on an airplane," Grace answered with a laugh. "And you and Uncle Steve were playing baseball and Uncle Steve was wearing a hula skirt."

At Grace's last statement, Alex burst out laughing, laughing even harder when she saw the look on her dad's face. It really had been the dumbest song – all she did was throw together whatever popped into her mind – but, when she sang it on their way to the hospital, it had made Grace's tears turn into laughter. She probably couldn't even remember any of the lyrics if she had been asked to sing it again, but she definitely did remember the part about her dad dressed in a hula skirt. Where that idea had come from, she had no idea.

* * *

><p>"Anyone ever tell you you're a pretty amazing kid?" Steve asked, turning onto the Lunalilo Freeway, headed for the house. After he had helped Alex out of her costume earlier, Grace had asked if they could all go out for pizza together. They had taken the girls back to the office with them, where they had hung out for two hours, and then, after stopping by a store to pick up some Lactaid pills – Alex had left hers at home and, in order to eat pizza, she had to have them– they headed to a pizzeria in Waikiki.<p>

Over dinner, Grace had informed them that Alex had been the first person to reach her – she hadn't been more than five steps away – when she had fallen off of the monkey bars at the Zoo playground and that, by the time the camp counselor had reached them – she had been dealing with another child's minor injury – Alex had already splinted Grace's arm using a stick, bandana, and t-shirt – the latter two items having been donated from Josh. Then, when Grace had been told that she would be taken to the hospital, she had asked if Alex could go with her. Grace's request had been denied but, somehow, obviously, Alex had ended up at the hospital. Not only had Alex helped keep Grace's mind off of her injury, she had also apparently kept Grace's arm from being more damaged. Once again his daughter had amazed the hell out of him.

Actually, Alex could only remember ever being told she was amazing once and it had not been either of the two people she wanted most in the world to feel that way about her who said it. Until now. Although, hearing him say it, she didn't really understand why he was telling her this. She didn't really think of herself as amazing, not even close. She decided she wasn't going to answer his question; she didn't really want to bring up her grandfather again. Every time she had tried to bring him up – to ask questions about him; to ask to go see his stuff in storage; to express interest in visiting his grave – her Dad, whether he meant to or not, shirked away from it. She didn't really understand why he got that way, but she was tired of mentioning his name only to be hurt by the way her Dad reacted. Instead of answering his question, she would just do what her parents did when they didn't feel like answering her questions: avoid answering it directly. "I'm not amazing."

"Yes, you are," Steve argued with her. "What you did for Grace was –"

"Was what anyone would do for her younger cousin," Alex interrupted.

"Cousin?"

Alex shrugged. "It's the term Grace used when the camp staff asked why she wanted me to go to the hospital with her." She thought for a few moments. "Well, not exactly. What she said was that my dad is her Uncle Steve."

"And that worked?"

Alex shook her head before giving into a smile. "No, but I did use it in my argument about why I should go." Steve shot her a look, eyebrow raised. "I pointed out that Uncle Danny is my emergency contact and you are Grace's, that we have been picked up by either both of you or one of you all week, and that it's that way for a reason: we're ohana."

"Ohana?" Steve asked. "I didn't even know you knew that word."

"I've been to Hawaii before, Dad, remember?" Looking out the window as they pulled up to the house, Alex noticed someone – given that it was dusk, she couldn't make out whom it was – sitting on the ground near the front door. "Um, Dad, are you supposed to have a visitor tonight?"

Putting the car in park, Steve squinted in the direction of the front door. Recognition filled his face. He had left her a message a week ago about coming for a visit, but he had never received a definitive answer from her about whether she would or not. The last time he had talked to her had easily been several months ago and, at that time, she had told him that returning to Hawaii was not something she was sure she would ever do – it simply held too many bad memories for her. But, lo and behold, here she was; his sister was here.

* * *

><p>"She's great, Steve," Mary told her older brother, handing him a Longboard beer as she joined him on the back patio. She had just spent the last three hours meeting and getting to know her niece for the first time. Mary had instantly liked the girl, not purely for nepotism's sake, but because, while clearly intelligent, Alex had a great sense of humor – especially when it came to teasing her father – was respectful and sweet, and also had genuinely wanted to hear all about Mary and her life in Los Angeles, especially after she had learned that Mary would only be staying for two nights.<p>

"Thanks," Steve told her, twisting off the cap of the beer. "I think she's pretty great, too."

"She's a lot like you," Mary observed. Then with a twinkle in her eye and a smile on her face, she continued, "Only she's a lot smarter than you, has better manners, and isn't annoying."

Steve rolled his eyes. This was going to be a great weekend, he could tell already. Between Alex's penchant for telling jokes and Mary's constant, sisterly teasing, he sensed that most of the laughs this weekend were going to be on his behalf. Even so, he would tolerate it just so he could spend time with the two people who mattered most to him in the world. "Gee, thanks, Mary," he said, before giving into a smile.

"You're different when she's around," Mary observed, now seeing her brother in an entirely different light than she ever had before. Not that she had seen him very much since their dad had shipped them off to the mainland nearly twenty years ago, but the Steve she had observed an hour ago was a far cry from the ninja-dressed, stoic, military man she had encountered at their father's funeral and in the days afterward. The man she had just observed was calm, gentle and happy; his eyes radiated with a glow and his face lit up every time he looked at his daughter. "More human."

"That's funny," Steve said, meeting her eye. "Danny said the same thing about you last time you were here."

"I mean it," Mary stressed. "Watching you with her – I just never realized you were capable of having that much love for someone." It wasn't a put-down; he had just always been so hardened to the world that it was next to impossible for anyone to break through the walls he had built up. But, apparently having a kid had that affect on a person.

"She's the best thing that ever happened to me, Mary," Steve replied, a smile appearing on his face. "Having a kid is the most amazing thing in the world; I hope you get to experience it one day."

Mary didn't answer while she studied him in the light being cast from the house through the glass. After several minutes of silence, she said, "Does your girlfriend like her?"

"She's not my girlfriend," Steve stated, taking a swig of his beer. Why did everyone refer to Catherine in that term? "And they've never met."

"Does Catherine even know about her?"

"Of course she does," Steve replied, expelling a frustrated breath. He wondered if Mary and Danny had some secret friendship that included discussing his love life. "I've never hidden the fact that I'm a father."

"So don't you think you should introduce Alex to her?" Mary asked, ignoring his tone. "I'm pretty sure you don't want Alex's first introduction to your girlfriend to be a three a.m. wakeup to Catherine moaning 'Oh, God' over and over again," she stated, referring to her own experience from nine months ago. She wasn't sure but it appeared like her brother was trying to keep from blushing.

Steve chose to not reply to her comment. She was right: he definitely did not want a repeat of that morning nine months ago when, coming out of the shower, he had overheard his sister telling Catherine that their activities of the night before had not gone unheard. He hadn't really cared if Mary had overheard him having sex but he had felt embarrassed for Cath. That should not have been the way she was introduced to his sister. He definitely never wanted his daughter to be put in the position Mary had been.

"So, I had expected the two of you to be up all night talking about hair and clothes and whatever else it is girls talk about," Steve said when he finally changed the subject. About an hour ago, Steve had left the two alone in the living room after they had started to discuss Mary's fingernails, which Alex had noticed as having had a manicure recently. How she could tell that, Steve had no clue. It was way too much girl talk for him, so he had headed to the backyard to enjoy the summer air and the sounds of the waves rolling in.

"She got a phone call."

Steve checked his watch. 10:30. Alex must be testing him again by disobeying his rule of no cell phones after nine. "Her cell phone is not supposed to be turned on."

"It was her Mom on your house phone," Mary told him. "Guess you didn't hear it from out here."

* * *

><p>"Ouch!" Steve said a few minutes later, rubbing the spot on his chest where Alex had just slammed the cordless phone down, telling him her mother wanted to talk to him. Looking up at her, he said, "What the – wait, why are you crying?"<p>

Angry, she said, "Why do you think?" before stomping back inside the house.

Putting the phone to his ear, Steve asked, "What the hell did you just say to her?" Then, only a few seconds later, he continued, "It is my business, Cindy." Expelling a frustrated breath, he said, "I'm not doing this tonight." Hanging up on her, he apologized to Mary and headed inside the house.

Inside the house, his daughter was climbing the stairs. He called for her, telling her to stop. When she turned to face him, he knew what was going to happen but, instead of discouraging it, he asked the question that he knew would push her over the edge. "What did she say to you?"

"It doesn't matter," she replied, narrowing her eyes in anger. "It's your fault she was able to say it at all because you broke your promise!"

He didn't reply, didn't bother to stop her. He was going to let her have this bout of misplaced anger. She needed to let it out.

Growing angrier when he didn't respond, she started yelling at him. "It's just like before when I told you I didn't want to see her but you made me the answer the door and she was there! I told you I didn't want to talk to her but because you were outside I had to answer the phone. It's all your fault!"

Steve allowed her to yell at him, not saying a word, until, finally, five minutes later she stopped. Looking down at him, her face red, he could tell she was willing herself to not cry. He approached her, stopping two steps below her, to look her in the eye. When he spoke, all he said was, "I love you."

* * *

><p>"Dad?" Alex said, speaking into his chest as they sat on the couch.<p>

"Yeah?" Steve replied, looking down at her. After she had blown up at him, he had wrapped his arms around her and held her. She hadn't cried this time but he had held her until he felt the tension leaving her body. Then, he was able to coax her down the stairs to the couch, where, upon sitting down, she had curled up next to him, his arm around her shoulders, and placed her head against his chest. They had been sitting there for twenty minutes in absolute silence – Mary had come inside, wished them a good night, and headed to her room for the night – when Alex had finally opened her mouth.

"I'm sorry; I shouldn't have yelled at you," she apologized. "It's not you I was mad at." Even before she had started yelling at him, she had known that she was wrong to take it out on him. He was not responsible for any of the things her Mom had said to her on the phone, but she had yelled at him anyway. She was a brat for allowing herself to act that way.

"I know that, Alex."

"Then why did you let me do it?" she asked him. He had acted so different than her Mom would have; it didn't make any sense. "Why didn't you make me stop?"

"Because you've been holding onto a lot of anger for a long time," he explained, continuing to run his fingers through her hair as he had been for ten minutes. "It's not good for you to keep all of that in."

Alex was quiet for a few more minutes as she thought about what he said. "Dad?"

"Yes?"

Shifting her head and turning her eyes upward to meet his eyes, she said, "No matter what Mom says, you're a good Dad."

His breath catching in his throat, he pulled her close and kissed her head, letting his lips linger on her scalp. He wanted to remember this moment forever; it was the first time she had ever said that to him. It was the first time anyone had ever said that to him. "Thank you," he finally said, "that means a lot to me." Kissing her on the top of the head again, he said, "I'm glad you said that because there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

She looked at him, her eyes full of wondering curiosity.

"Do you like being here?"

Alex gave him a weird look. "I love Hawaii."

"I mean with me. Do you like being with me?"

"Of course I do," Alex answered. "You're my Dad."

"Good," he said, a huge smile appearing on his face. "Good," he repeated. "Because I was thinking that maybe we could make it permanent."

Pulling out of his embrace, she looked at him, her expression a mix of shock and confusion. "You mean, like, change the custody agreement so that I live with you full-time?"

Steve nodded. "Exactly what I mean."

Her eyes scanned the room, as if searching for something. "But why?" she asked him, before explaining herself. "I mean, you've never wanted me with you before."

"What?" he asked, incredulity flooding his tone. "Where is this coming from?"

Confusion flooded Alex's expression. "Mom said you always wanted to be a Dad but that you never wanted me with you because I would complicate things. She said I'd mess things up for you."

Steve shook his head. If it were not for Alex, he would hate Cindy with every ounce of his being. How dare she lie to their daughter; how dare she try to turn Alex against him! "That couldn't be any further from the truth."

"So she lied?"

"Yes, Alex," Steve said, nodding. "She lied." Expelling a frustrated breath, he said, "Look, sweetheart, I have always wanted you with me. I never even wanted you to go to Seattle. I never wanted you to leave me."

Her expression confused, he could tell she was trying to come to terms with the realization that her mother had lied to her. "Then why did you let me go?"

"Because I wanted to do what was best for you," he answered. "And, at the time, I thought that's what was best for you."

Looking at him, she asked, "But if you always wanted me with you, then why hadn't I seen you for two years?"

It took him awhile to respond. He had no idea how to – or if he even should – tell his daughter that he had failed her. He had stopped fighting for his rights to her the moment he had allowed Cindy to dictate when he could or could not see their daughter. He had given Cindy an unequal say in the raising of their daughter; he had even started to believe it when she had told him that Alex was better off not seeing him that often. When they had first moved to Seattle, Steve had traveled there nearly every other weekend, when the Navy didn't have him running field exercises or intelligence training. As he advanced in his career, his visits became less frequent – dropping to once a month, then every six weeks, then every other month. Still he had made it a point to see Alex as often as he could; every chance he had, he traveled to see her or paid for a ticket for her to come see him.

As the years went by, as Alex advanced in school and grew older, he would visit her four times a year – spending a week or more – and each time, after he returned home, Cindy would contact him and tell him that Alex started acting out. She had told him that, every time after he left, Alex would have behavior issues. Cindy swore his visits did nothing more than confuse her and give her undue stress. He hadn't believed her at first: Alex had always been well-mannered and well-behaved, even her 'terrible-twos' stage had been extremely mild. When he had talked to Alex about it, she had denied misbehaving, but, in the end, he had been swayed by Cindy's persistence. He believed he was doing Alex more harm than good and, ultimately, that led to his not seeing her for two years prior to her current visit. He had failed – as a man and a father.

"I messed up, Alex," he told her. "I should have done things differently and I can never apologize enough for that. It's not just the last two years; I missed out on a lot of things and I'm sorry."

"Dad –"

He interrupted her. "I missed birthdays and Christmases. I wasn't there when you lost your first tooth. I should have been there with your Mom when she taught you to ride a bike. I –"

"She didn't teach me," she said, interrupting him and placing her hand over his. He was starting to act weird; all guilty and sad-like. He didn't need to feel guilty for anything. The look in his eyes told her he didn't believe her. "Grandpa taught me."

"Grandpa?" That was not what Cindy had told him. Steve had been planning a trip to visit Alex when she was six and had told Cindy he would be teaching Alex – who had expressed interest over the phone – how to ride a two-wheel bike. Cindy had told him that she had already taught Alex how to do so and, sure enough, their daughter was riding without training wheels when he went to visit three weeks later.

Alex nodded. "Mom told him that I had wanted you to teach me but that you wouldn't be able to because of work. So Grandpa taught me." She thought for a minute. "But I think you ended up coming to visit not long after that so I don't know why she thought you weren't coming." When he didn't reply for several minutes, she said, "You said that you once thought me living with Mom was what was best for me?"

Steve nodded, locking eyes with her. "Yeah, I did."

"But you don't anymore."

He shook his head. "No, Alex, I don't." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "But I also think you're old enough to have a say in what's best for you." Making sure her eyes stayed on him, he continued, "All I've ever wanted is for you to be happy and if you don't think you will be happy here – if you don't want to stay with me – then that's okay. I will support you in whatever decision you make."

A look of confliction spread across her face and she averted her gaze to study the floor. "It's not that I don't want to, it's just…" she trailed off.

"It's just what, Alex?" Steve asked, placing a hand on her back.

"It'd be easier if I hated her," Alex muttered, balancing her elbows on her knees and resting her head in her hands.

"Mom?"

Alex nodded. "If I hated her, then I wouldn't care if I hurt her by picking you."

God, he loved this girl so much. If his mother had ever treated him the way Cindy treated Alex, he would have nothing but contempt for her; he would have cared less about hurting her. But Alex: she was a much better person than he would ever be.

"Tell you what," Steve said, running a hand through her hair again. "If you decide that you want me to file the paperwork to get full custody of you then I will tell your Mom. I won't even tell her that you pick me over her."

Alex thought about what he said for a few minutes. Staying in Hawaii would be awesome. Not only would she be with her Dad, but it would mean that she wouldn't have to worry about disappointing her Mom anymore. She wouldn't have to fight with her as often. She'd miss her friends, definitely, but Brian might be moving back to France, Alyssa and her family would be living in China by then, and most of her other friends would all be separated into different high schools anyway. Her Dad wanted her to be happy and, even though there were still some things she was angry with him about, when it came down to it, she had been happiest in the last six weeks – even with the kidnapping – than she had been for the last several months in Seattle. Staying here – living with her Dad – would be best for everyone. Wouldn't it?

"If I decide I want to stay, then we'd have to find me a school to go to," Alex stated. "And it would be different than it has been: there will be dental appointments and making sure I do my homework and events at school you'll have to attend and –"

"I know all this, Alex," Steve interrupted, giving into a little laugh. "This wouldn't be the first time you've lived with me, remember?"

"Sorry," she replied.

"And I've already picked up brochures from some schools for us to look at," he told her. "And, you know how my work schedule is, but I will do my very best to be there for everything you get involved in. I will do my best to –"

"Okay."

"Okay?" He caught her eye. "Okay as in –"

Alex nodded, giving him a huge grin. "I want to live with you."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Mild use of adult language.**

**Also thanks to everyone who has either added this story to their alerts or left a review, especially those who review. I'm always looking to improve my writing and storytelling skills so please let me know what you like/don't like. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

><p>Steve woke from his sleep of less than two hours to the sound of giggling and whispers emanating from downstairs. Glancing at his door, he could see that it was slightly ajar instead of wide open like he normally left it. Alex – or maybe Mary – must have pulled it closed on their way downstairs. He rolled over onto his stomach, burying his face into his pillow. He was tired and the headache he had acquired during his late night early morning phone call was still rearing its' ugly head. He considered falling back to sleep – it was the weekend, after all – but opted not to when he heard his name mentioned downstairs. Rolling back over, he sat up, grabbing his t-shirt from the end of his bed and putting it on. Deciding to eavesdrop on the conversation downstairs, he walked to the door. Then, leaning against his dresser, his ear turned to the gap in the door, he listened.

* * *

><p>"Is he a good brother?" Alex asked her aunt, as she finished commenting on a friends' Facebook status.<p>

"Well, we didn't talk for a long time," Mary replied with coffee mug in hand as she took the bar stool next to the teenager. "And for awhile there I probably would have said 'no', but, yeah, I guess he is – he's very protective."

"Was he like that when you were little?" Alex, having closed the browser, pushed the laptop back on the countertop and turned in the barstool to face Mary.

Mary nodded, meeting the girl's eye. "I think he hated that I was always following him around, bugging him when he was with his friends, but he did look out for me." Taking a sip from her coffee mug, she said, "He was and is a good brother."

Alex smiled at that before asking another question. "What's he really like? I mean, he's one way at work but then completely different with me. Which one's the real him?"

Mary thought for a few moments. "I think they're both him. At work he has to be the tough guy and with you he gets to be…" She searched for the right word. Failing, she continued, "different." Seeing an unsure expression on her niece's face, she explained, "I mean everybody has different roles to play. Everybody has different masks to wear." Alex's face expressing she was still unconvinced, Mary observed, "You don't agree?"

Alex shook her head. "Not really." She shrugged. "I guess for some people that's true but for my Mom it's definitely not."

Holding her mug in both hands, Mary peered at the girl as she took a sip. "What do you mean?" She had become aware last night that there was some sort of unsettling situation between Alex's mother and the teenager, but she didn't know any more than that. She didn't get a chance to talk to Steve about it and she wasn't even sure he would tell her if she asked.

"My mom is mean," Alex stated, sliding off the stool and standing. "She's mean to everybody but her stupid jerk of a –"

"Alexandra McGarrett!" Steve's voice boomed as he came down the stairs. He had listened to his daughter's conversation with Mary for several minutes and as soon as Alex had mentioned Cindy he had a feeling about the direction in which the conversation would turn. What he hadn't expected was to hear his daughter call David not only stupid, but also a jerk. "What have I told you about talking like that?"

"What?" Alex asked, giving him her cutest smile.

Steve shook his head as he walked their way. "That's not going to work, young lady." Reaching them, he continued, "And don't 'what' me; you know perfectly well that you cannot call people names, even if you don't like them."

"But you don't like him either," Alex pointed out, referring to their dinner at La Mer the week before. David had been his typical self at dinner: rude to their waiter; condescending to everyone; he'd flaunted his money; and kept trying to tell Alex what to order, how to sit, how to hold her fork. He thought he was better than everyone else and was more than happy with sharing that belief with everyone. Even though her Dad had never verbalized it, she had been able to tell that he felt the same way about David as she did. Over dinner her Dad had not been very talkative with David and, when he had actually responded to David, his replies had been curt. The only time he had actually expressed his frustration had been when he had told David to stop telling his – Steve's – daughter what to do. "And you think he's a jerk, too."

"I never said that," Steve replied, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"But you were thinking it."

Steve shook his head, frustrated at her insistence to argue with him. "You need to be respectful. You cannot –"

"Geez, Steve," Mary said, interrupting him, not really caring if it was her place or not to get involved. In her opinion he was over-reacting. "Relax. You said a lot worse when you were her age."

"Really?" Alex asked, her curiosity now piqued. "Like what?"

"You," Steve said, turning towards his daughter. "Mind your own business." Turning towards his sister, he said, "And you – don't encourage her."

"Lack of sleep getting to you?" Mary asked, glaring at her brother, before mumbling, "Grouch."

"I am not a grouch," Steve snapped, glaring back at his sister. "And how do you know that I didn't sleep well?"

"Your grouchiness," Mary replied. Actually that wasn't entirely true: she had heard his mumbled voice talking on the phone until very early that morning. She hadn't been able to distinguish what he had said or who he had been talking to but she had been able to tell that the conversation had been hostile.

"Your hair," Alex stated, pointing at his head. His hair always stuck up on the side when he had had a rough night of sleep. Her Mom had told her that and she had noticed it herself on those nights when he had stayed up with her after she had experienced a nightmare. Smirking, she said, "And you know what? I think you have even more gray hairs than you did yesterday."

Steve rolled his eyes, absently using his hand to pat down the one section of hair that had a habit of sticking up, and resisted the urge to smile. Maybe he _was_ being grouchy. Maybe he was – just a little – making a big deal out of a little problem. Yes, he had always taught Alex to not call anyone names and to be respectful but at least she had refrained from calling David those things to his face. He would blame his current attitude on his frustrating and argumentative phone conversation with Cindy that had lasted several hours and was the cause for his lack of sleep. "You know why I have gray hairs?" Not waiting for a response from either of them, he stated, "Because of you two."

"Whatever you say, Mr. Hula," Mary said, giving into a laugh when Alex started roaring with laughter.

"Mr. What?" Steve asked, looking back and forth between the two females as if they had completely lost their minds.

"Mr. Hula," Alex answered, grabbing her stomach from laughing too hard. She pointed to the laptop, starting to laugh all over again at the photo displayed on the screen.

Stepping in their direction, he stopped and stood between the two of them. Looking at the screen, he saw a picture of himself – taken on Turtle Bay if he remembered correctly – and, in place of the shorts that he had been wearing that day, was now a green hula skirt. _Great, _he thought, _now there's a picture to go along with Alex's song._

Watching her dad's expression as he looked at the photo that she had manipulated using Photoshop, Alex couldn't help but laugh harder. If he thought this was embarrassing just wait until he found out that she had emailed the picture to Uncle Danny and Chin.

Shaking his head, Steve said, "What am I going to do with you two?"

"Hug us," Mary said, wiping the laughter-caused tears from her face.

"Love us," Alex said, smiling up at him.

"Tell us we're the greatest people you know," Mary said, giving him that same smile she used to give him when she was six and had been annoying the hell out of him. He had always been a sucker for that smile.

Wrapping an arm around each of them, Steve shook his head and laughed. Kissing his sister on the top of her head, he joked, "I think most annoying is the correct term to describe you." Kissing his daughter on the top of her head, he said, "But, yes, I do love both of you." He tightened his hold on Alex, kissing her head a second time.

"Pancakes or waffles?" Alex finally asked several minutes into their first family hug.

"Pancakes," was the response from the older two McGarrett's.

"Bacon or sausage?"

"Bacon," Mary replied.

"Sausage," Steve answered.

"Scrambled eggs?"

"Scrambled works for me," Mary replied, pulling out of her brother's embrace.

"Over-easy," Steve said.

"I don't know how to make them like that," Alex said, stepping back and looking up at her dad.

With a nod to the kitchen, Steve said, "Come on, I'll show you." The breakfast menu planned, Steve and Alex stepped into the kitchen; Steve pulling pans out of the cupboard and Alex grabbing items out of the refrigerator.

Standing now, Mary asked, "Want any help?"

Steve laughed, turning to face her. "You still burn everything you cook?"

"Sure do," Mary answered. Cooking had never been her thing, there was no denying that. "So I guess I'll go shower."

* * *

><p>"Bye, Mare," Steve said, hugging his sister in the departure hall of Honolulu Airport. Taking a step back, he locked eyes with her and said, "Remember, if you ever need anything in L.A. you can still call my buddy Sam."<p>

Before she had left the island last time, he had given her the phone number of one of his former Seal buddies who was now working with NCIS in Los Angeles, and who had offered to look out for Mary in case she ever needed anything and couldn't get a hold of Steve. That morning, while Alex was in the shower, he had asked if she had ever needed to use Sam's number. She had told him no and that, truth be told, she probably never would call him – a complete stranger – if she did ever need help. He had insisted that she hold onto his number because after Wo Fat's involvement with Alex's kidnapping, Steve wouldn't put it past the man to also target Mary again.

"Yeah," Mary replied, before turning and hugging her niece. "Bye, Alex; I'm glad we got to meet." Then, breaking the hug, she glanced at her brother. "You have my number now so if my brother ever gets on your nerves, let me know. I know lots of ways you can annoy him."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Great, thanks, Mare." Looking at Alex, he sent her a look of warning which she ignored.

A mischievous twinkle in her eye, Alex said, "I might have to take you up on that offer," before smiling up at her dad.

He shook his head. They had driven him crazy for two days and, clearly, they weren't done yet. After breakfast yesterday, he, with Alex's help, had convinced Mary to take a hike up to the petroglyphs that they had used to visit as children with their father. Alex had insisted on packing a picnic lunch – which she had given to him to carry on the hike – and, with the exception of Alex having one minor panic attack in the jungle, they enjoyed their lunch, had good conversation, and – thanks to Alex – had taken what had seemed like a million pictures of the three of them at the petroglyphs. After that he had driven to the North Shore, where he had treated them to a shrimp dinner – in Alex's case, she had also sampled some squid – from the Famous Kahuku Shrimp truck, visited some gift shops in Haleiwa, and then found a spot on the beach to watch the sunset. That morning they had all slept in late before lounging around in their pajamas until Mary had to get ready to head to the airport. Her trip had been way too short and, on the way to the airport, he had expressed his interest in having her visit again soon. He pulled his sister into his arms again, kissed her on the head, and said, "You better go. Stay in touch, okay?"

Mary gave them a parting smile and then turned and joined the line for airport security. His arm around his daughter's shoulders, Steve waited until his little sister was through the security checkpoint and had waved her goodbye, before turning back around. Guiding Alex through the crowd, he said to her, "We have to make a quick stop at the Arrivals Hall before heading home."

"What?" Alex said, looking up at him as they walked. "Why? Who's coming?"

Grinning, he thought of the surprise he had waiting for her. While Alex had been missing, Steve had spoken with the Boyers once more after he had received Alex's Facebook password from Alyssa. After she had been found safe, he had spoken with them again on multiple occasions. In his second conversation with Charles Boyer, Steve had learned that their family would be moving to China for Charles' job. Learning this, he had immediately had the idea to offer an invite to Alyssa to come visit with Alex for a few days before heading to Beijing with her family. After Alex was home with him and recovering, he had formally invited the girl to come visit. Tonight was the night Alyssa would be arriving for her three day stay before being joined by her parents and brothers on Thursday and then flying to Beijing – via Tokyo – on Friday afternoon. The entire thing had been kept secret from Alex. Until now.

"Alyssa."

Stopping in the middle of the hall, causing a man to nearly crash into her from behind, she said, "Are you serious?" Her dad's grin said it all. Throwing her arms around him, she exclaimed, "You are the best Dad ever!"

* * *

><p>"Little McGarrett!"<p>

"Hey, Kamekona!" Alex greeted in return. Turning to the shorter blonde girl next to her, she said, "This is my best friend, Alyssa." Two hours ago, with the first appointment of the day, Alex had the stitches removed from her hand and, after going to her Dad's office to introduce Alyssa to Chin and Jenna – Uncle Danny had been MIA – she had asked if they could walk to Kamekona's for some shaved ice and to hang out on the beach for a little while. After checking with the Boyers to make sure the girls' plan was okay with them, he had given Alex some cash and made her promise to keep him updated every hour with where they were and what they were doing. On the walk over, the girls had talked about Josh and Sam and then had decided they wanted to go to the mall. Alyssa had suggested that they invite Josh to join them and, after placing a phone call to him, Josh had agreed to meet them – with Sam in tow – at Kamekona's in an hour. Now all Alex had to do was call her Dad to update him on their plans.

"Aloha, Alyssa," Kamekona greeted. Alyssa greeted the man in return.

"Alex!"

Looking past Kamekona, Alex saw Grace, running towards them, her bright pink cast now sporting a couple of stickers in addition to the figure – a hula skirt wearing person – that Alex had drawn only three days ago. Reaching them, Grace hugged Alex. Squatting down, Alex said, "What are you doing here?"

"Danno is making Kamekona babysit me," Grace said, glancing up at Alyssa, before looking back at Alex. "But he said he'll come pick me up for lunch."

Catching a look from Alex, Alyssa told her, "Go for it." As soon as Alex had looked at her she knew that her friend wanted to rescue Grace from what would probably be a boring morning. Alyssa knew that her youngest brother – aged six years old – would be bored out of his mind if he had been relegated to hanging out at a shaved ice shop all morning. Besides, Josh's little brother might enjoy having someone his own age to hang around with that day.

Alex returned the smile and then turned back to Grace. "Grace, this is Alyssa." Standing up, Alex said, "I will be right back." Pulling her cell phone out of her pocket, she walked away, stopping when she was out of earshot of Grace. She didn't want to mention her idea of taking Grace to the mall with them until she knew it was okay with Uncle Danny. No point in getting the girl excited if it wasn't okay with him.

* * *

><p>"Hi, Sweetheart," Steve greeted into the phone as he signed the petition for custody documents on his desk. He had gotten off the phone with his lawyer about half an hour ago, having told him that he would be going through with the petition. His lawyer would be forwarding the legal documents, along with a typed letter from Steve, to the court in Seattle that had originally dealt with the custody agreement. Although it was a long shot, Steve's letter requested that the case not only be expedited but also be transferred to Hawaii in the best interest of Alex. When he had spoken with Cindy, she had been angered that he was requesting a change of custody but, after arguing with her for several hours, and after she had accepted the fact that Steve would not be changing his mind, she had agreed that, if the court agreed to the transfer, she would travel to Honolulu for the custody hearing. If not, Steve and Alex would travel to Washington State, where he would either bring Alex back with him or be forced to say goodbye to her again. "You made it to Kamekona's?"<p>

"Hi, Dad," Alex greeted. "Yes, we're at Kamekona's. But is it okay if we go to the mall?"

"How do you plan on getting there?"

"The bus," Alex replied. "And, just so you know, Josh and Sam are gonna go with us – if you let us go."

"Josh, huh?" Steve said, signing his name on the last document and setting down the pen.

"Daaad," Alex whined. "He's just a friend."

Steve chuckled. He had received the response from her that he had been hoping for. "Yes, you can go to the mall, but make sure you call me as soon as you get off the bus."

"Okay, thanks," Alex said. "Is Uncle Danny there? I need to talk to him for a minute."

* * *

><p>As conflicted as ever, Steve stormed out of his office and headed for interrogation. That morning, after dropping off the legal documents with his attorney, he had received a call informing him of the taskforce's new case. An HPD officer had discovered the body of a man in an alleyway in Chinatown. The man's body had several knife wounds to the torso and a slit throat. The case had been referred to Five-O due to the victim having been identified – thanks to the passport found in his pocket – as the son of a wealthy Ukrainian businessman who had questionable ties to the Russian mob operating in Kiev. That wasn't what had Steve's blood boiling. The HPD officer who had found the body was none other than Martin Engler, the cop who had played a crucial role in Alex's kidnapping.<p>

Chin and Lori had been first on the scene and, upon arrival, Chin had pulled Steve aside to inform him about Engler, who had, apparently, slipped back into town under the radar despite Jenna's best efforts at tracking the man. Steve had looked over Chin's shoulder to see Lori interviewing Engler and, in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to beat the shit out of the man. But he had restrained, forcing himself to focus on their victim instead. After the initial assessment of the body by Max, he had taken the body to the lab. Engler had returned to work; Lori and Danny had gone to interview the victim's fiancé; he and Chin had returned to headquarters to work with Jenna on tracking the victim's cell phone use.

Prior to his death, the victim – Andriy Oleksienko – had received one call from an international number that Jenna traced to Kiev. After that call had ended, the victim had dialed one number and had a conversation that had lasted 43 seconds. The man he called: Martin Engler. Knowing that information, Chin had contacted Engler and requested he report to Five-O Headquarters to answer new questions that had come up. Chin and Danny had started questioning Engler half an hour ago, and, now, due to Engler's refusal to answer any questions, Steve was headed downstairs to deal with the man.

Stepping into the darkened interrogation room, Steve watched as a look of recognition passed across Engler's face. Taking a deep breath to quash the extreme feeling of hatred that he felt towards the man, Steve stepped further into the room. "Okay, this is the deal: we know that you received a call from Oleksienko roughly half an hour before time of death." Crossing his arms in front of him, Steve squared his body to face the man. "We also know that you were in Chinatown for a hell of a lot longer than you said you were. So my question is: if you offed the guy then why bother calling it in?"

"Like I told your Detectives," Martin Engler said, his tone dripping with disdain. "I didn't kill Andriy. But since it's you asking, McGarrett, I will tell you that he was my source."

Steve's hatred for the man grew when he heard the way in which Engler had said his name. This was all a game for the bastard. Forcing himself to stay focused on this case and not Alex's, he probed for details. "Source?"

"Andriy's father has connections to the Russian mob back in Kiev. They've been trying to use Andriy to establish a base here to expand their so-called empire," Engler explained. "He's been keeping me updated on their progress. He called me this morning and asked if I would meet him."

"Why did he want to meet?" That question came from Danny.

Engler shrugged. "All he said was that he had new information. When I got to that alley he was dead. If you ask me, Andryi's father probably figured out what his son was up to and decided to not allow that shame to come to his family."

"You expect us to believe that story?" Danny asked, keeping a close eye on Steve whose fists were clenched in anger.

"You can believe whatever you want," Engler replied before giving way to a smug smile. "But I do the job that the State of Hawaii pays me to do."

Steve had heard enough and Engler's last comment pushed him over the edge. Upending the table that Engler sat at, he dragged him to his feet, pushed him against the wall and lodged his arm into the man's windpipe. As he applied pressure against Engler's windpipe, Steve said, "Look you son of a bitch, I know who are and what you did. I know whose payroll you're really on." Pushing harder against Engler's windpipe, with blood boiling in his veins, Steve watched as the man struggled to breathe.

"Steve," Chin finally said, placing a gentle hand on Steve's arm.

Glancing at Chin, Steve released the man, letting him fall to his knees as he struggled for air.

Looking up at McGarrett, Engler said, "So it _was_ your kid that took my wallet."

"That's right," Steve replied, a sense of pride filling his chest, despite his clenched fists. His kid was smarter than any kidnapper would ever hope to be. "And she led us back to that hell-hole where you chained her up like a dog." With that, he kneed the man in his gut. "You stupid, son of a –"

Grabbing his mid-section, Engler leaned against the wall, catching his breath, and said, "You should thank me, McGarrett. Without me your kid would have been hurt a hell of a lot worse than she was. Without me, your kid might have lost that hand of hers."

* * *

><p>"Thanks for the ride, Mr. McGarrett," Josh said as he closed the truck door.<p>

"You're welcome," Steve answered, turning around to look at all five of the kids that had crammed into his backseat. With the girls still at the mall when they had finished their work for the day, Steve and Danny – whose car was in the shop – had headed to pick them up. Arriving at their meeting point outside of the mall food court entrance, they had seen the Sullivan boys waiting at the bus stop for the ride home. Without considering the limited seating space in his truck, Steve had offered them a ride home, so the three teenagers – Alex, Alyssa, and Josh – and two nine year olds – Grace and Sam – had all squeezed into the backseat. He knew that probably wasn't the safest option but, somehow, the kids had worked it out so that they all had a seat belt. Looking at Alex, he locked eyes with her, his mind going back to the things Engler had told him.

Engler, knowing full well that the only evidence linking him to Alex's kidnapping was his wallet – which he claimed could have been found anywhere – had opened up to Steve, Chin, and Danny regarding the abduction. He claimed to have never met Wo Fat, despite receiving a big fat lump of cash the day he had flown back to the mainland, and admitted to having only one phone conversation with the man, during which he had been instructed to not harm the young McGarrett. According to Engler, the man whom he had worked with – the man whose description Alex had provided the HPD sketch artist – was a Bulgarian national named Boris Balakov who was well known to Interpol for having ties to Japanese arms dealers. He had managed to fall off the grid when he had undergone plastic surgery three years ago. The face he had now did not resemble the face known to Interpol. The only thing Boris had not understood about their assignment was the words "do not harm". That was where Engler had stepped in.

Engler was a father himself and he swore, that had he known Alex would have been injured, he would have found another way of scoring the seventy thousand in cash he had needed to pay off gambling bets and an overdue mortgage payment. The intention was never to harm the girl but when she had outsmarted them with using her cell phone Boris had gotten angry and pistol whipped her. Then, that last morning, when Engler had discovered his missing wallet, Boris had accused Alex of swiping it and, when Engler had stepped outside to relieve himself, he had pulled out a knife with the intention of cutting off Alex's hand: the price a thief must pay for stealing. When he had returned to the cabin and saw the knife, he had screamed for Boris to stop, and, distracted, Boris had, instead, sliced open the palm of her hand.

"You okay, Dad?" Alex asked him quietly when his gaze refused to drift from hers.

He nodded. "Yeah. You?"

"I'm good," she replied, giving him a smile.

He turned back around, shifted into drive, and pulled out of the parking lot.

"So, what did you all do today?" Danny asked, turning around briefly to look at his daughter.

"We went shopping and had lunch," Grace reported. "Then Alex bought us ice cream and we went to play glow in the dark mini golf!"

"You did?" Danny asked, hearing the excitement in his daughter's voice. "Did you have fun?"

"Yeah," Grace replied.

Sam started laughing. "We beat the big kids so bad, didn't we, Grace?" At that, Grace started laughing, too.

"You don't need to brag, Sam," Josh said, rolling his eyes.

"You're just mad cuz we're better than you," Sam retorted.

Alyssa whispered in Alex's ear, causing her to laugh. Then, turning to Josh, Alex whispered in his ear. He also laughed and then whispered something back.

"What are you three whispering about?" Steve asked, with one eye on the road, the other on his daughter.

"Nothing," all three teens replied. In truth, they were still laughing about two things: the photo of Alex's dad in a hula skirt and how cute it was that Grace and Sam were completely taken with each other.

Before he could say anything back to them, Sam said, leaning forward in the seat, "Mr. Williams, Sir?"

"Yes?" Danny replied, turning around to face him.

"Can Grace come over to play sometime?"


	13. Chapter 13

"Alex," Alyssa said, whispering, "are you still awake?"

"Yeah," Alex replied, glancing at the green numbers on her digital clock. 1:15.

"I can't sleep," Alyssa told her with a sigh.

"Me either." _Just like last night and the night before that and the night before that. _Alex's insomnia, which she had suffered from frequently since her grandfather's death, and which she thought she had overcome after coming to Hawaii, was back in full-force.

"You think your Dad will mind if we go raid the fridge for a snack?"

Pulling back the covers on her bed, Alex sat up. "I dunno; never tried."

Ten minutes later they were back upstairs, having quietly ventured down to the kitchen – Alex pulled her dad's bedroom door closed as they passed – and returned with bottled water, sliced apples, and a jar of peanut butter. They headed out to the balcony, pulling the sliding glass door closed behind them, and settled into the chairs.

"So, what's wrong?" Alex asked, opening her bottle of water and looking at Alyssa.

"What do you mean?"

"It's 1:30 in the morning and you're eating," Alex pointed out. Alyssa, an occasional emotional eater, only ever ate a "midnight snack" when something was bothering her.

Alyssa sighed as she opened the jar of peanut butter. Sticking an apple slice into the peanut butter, she said, "I'm moving to China."

"Yeah, I know," Alex replied, a hint of sadness in her voice. "But, you know, we always did say we wanted to live abroad."

Alyssa laughed. "Yeah, but I was talking about Dublin or Barcelona or Paris or someplace like that." Catching Alex's eye, she continued, "And we were going to go together."

"Yeah," Alex agreed, taking a bite of apple. Chewing, she said, "But, hey, China will be cool. I mean, look at everything you'll get to see: the Great Wall; the Forbidden City; Tiananmen Square; the Ming Tombs." Swallowing, she continued, "There's so much history in that country."

"You're the history lover, not me," Alyssa argued, even though her friend did make a good point. "I'll have to learn Mandarin."

"Well, then you and my Dad can have a conversation about me and I won't know what you're saying."

"Your Dad speaks Mandarin?"

Alex nodded, taking a drink of water. "Sure does." Looking at her friend, she said, "I know it's hard but it will be fun, you gotta believe that."

"Yeah," Alyssa said. "It is hard; Seattle's my home. Everything is there: my grandparents; our friends; Brian; you." Getting misty eyed, she continued, "You're my best friend and you will be 5400 miles away."

"A little less than that actually, if things go the way Dad and I want them to," Alex replied. She had already looked up the distance between Honolulu and Beijing – 5078 miles and nothing but the Pacific Ocean between them.

"What?"

A huge smile breaking over her face, Alex replied, "Dad wants me to live with him." Getting excited, she said, "He's filing for full-custody."

"Really? That's awesome!" Alyssa was super excited for her friend – Alex had spent way too many years away from her dad and too many sad, tough years with her mom. Her friend deserved to be happy.

"Yeah," Alex said with a smile, before giving way to a frown. "Mom lied when she said he never wanted me with him."

"She lied?" Alyssa asked with her hand stopped halfway to her mouth. "Man, Alex, but why…" she trailed off, shaking her head. Ms. Aberdeen – no, Mrs. Connors now – had changed so much over the last couple of years. Alex's mom had been super nice, super sweet, and so much fun to be around when they were little. Now, Alyssa hated being around her and, even though she never vocalized it, Alex did, too. "What else do you think she lied about?"

Alex shrugged. "Dunno. Dunno if I want to know." She looked out at the ocean, lost in her thoughts. As soon as she had found out her Mom had lied to her about her Dad not wanting her to ever live with him, she had started wondering what else, if anything, her Mom had lied to her about.

After several minutes of silence, Alyssa spoke up. "What did your Mom say about your Dad wanting custody?"

Alex shrugged. "I don't know. I assume my Dad called her like he said he would, but he hasn't said anything to me about it." Glancing at Alyssa, she said, "My guess? She's pissed off."

Alyssa nodded, chewing. That certainly sounded like Alex's mom. "Well, I hope you get to stay with your Dad. You're a lot happier here than you've been for a long time."

"You've been here a day and you can tell that?"

"Of course I can," Alyssa said, swallowing. "You're my best friend, Alex." She took a drink of water. "You seem so much happier – freer even. It's like how you were whenever your grandfather was around."

Alex didn't answer as she listened to the waves rolling in. Everything had been better when she was with her grandfather and, ever since he died, she had felt so alone. She had finally stopped feeling alone the moment she saw her Dad at the hospital after her kidnapping.

"Have you talked to your Dad about it?"

Alex knew that "it" could only refer to one thing: her grandfather's funeral. She had so much anger built up inside of her about that. She just shook her head. "Grandpa is kind of a forbidden topic in this house. Or at least it feels that way."

"You should talk to him; tell him how you feel," Alyssa suggested. "Before you can't hold it in anymore."

"I don't know," Alex told her, shifting in the seat. "We'll see." Not wanting to talk about that sensitive topic anymore, Alex looked at Alyssa, the moonlight reflecting off of her eyes. "Maybe there will be a lot of cute boys in your class in Beijing."

Alyssa smiled and nodded. "You mean cute like Josh?" She grinned and decided to tease her friend. "How green his eyes are? And how he flirted with you all day?"

Alex blushed and shook her head, shyly. "He is really cute, isn't he?" She gave into a fit of the giggles and was soon joined by Alyssa.

* * *

><p>Walking into headquarters on Wednesday morning, Steve's attention was focused on his cell phone as he texted a reply to his sister and then sent a message to Alex, who was spending the day at the house with Alyssa. He was so distracted that he missed the poster-sized photo of himself hanging on the wall outside of his office. He stepped inside his office, changed out of the running shoes he had left on after his morning run with Alex, and slipped into his boots. Then, returning the phone to his pocket, he picked up a file off his desk and stepped out of his office. Catching something out of the corner of his eye, Steve stopped and turned, seeing the photo for the first time. It was the photo that Alex had manipulated to show him wearing a grass hula skirt.<p>

"That's a great look for you, buddy." Steve heard Danny's voice from behind him. Turning, Steve saw Danny, Chin, Lori and Jenna all burst out laughing. Steve shook his head and did his best to hide the blush that was slowly reaching his face. _Alex, Alex, Alex, _he said to himself. _That girl is something else._

Ignoring the glare that Steve sent him, Danny continued, a wide, amused grin filling his face, "I adore that kid of yours more and more each day." He had received an email from Alex on Saturday morning and had nearly peed himself from laughing so hard. Of course, he had shown it to Grace who also had spent a long time laughing at the photo. Seeing that Chin had also been sent the email, Danny had called him and they had decided to order an enlarged photo – poster-sized – to hang in the office, which he had picked up last night after work. With Alex around, there were a lot more laughs in their office than usual and he and Chin could not resist the opportunity to make fun of their boss.

Steve shook his head and opened his mouth to speak when he was interrupted by the sound of his cell phone ringing. He answered it. Hanging up, he looked at his team and said, "Get visions of me in a skirt out of your heads – we have a dead body on Lanikai Beach."

* * *

><p>When they arrived at the beach, his first thought upon seeing their victim was that he really didn't give a damn about who killed the man even though he was fairly certain that Wo Fat must have been tying up loose ends. Martin Engler was found with a gunshot wound to the head, execution style, in the shade of some palm trees. Steve had been pissed on Monday when they had nothing to hold Engler on – they hadn't told HPD about his involvement with Alex's case nor did HPD know about the cabin in the jungle – and had had to let him go but now he actually felt a bit of satisfaction knowing that Engler had been punished for his crime. Despite his feelings towards the man, Steve still had a job to do. He hoped that the trail would lead to the man he hated even more than Martin Engler – Wo Fat.<p>

* * *

><p>Hearing a knock on the front door, Steve set his latest copy of the Navy's <em>All Hands<em> magazine down on the end table and got up from the couch. Opening the door, he greeted Danny and Grace. Before the Williams' had barely taken three steps inside, Alex's voice rang out from the second floor landing. "Grace, we're doing our nails. Wanna join?"

"Can I, Danno?" Grace asked, looking up at her father.

"Sure," Danny replied. "Why not?" He watched as Grace ran up the stairs and followed Alex into her bedroom. Looking at Steve, Danny laughed. "Setting a new fashion statement?"

Steve's fingernails were covered in nail polish – each nail a different color. Not even twenty minutes ago, Alex and Alyssa had come downstairs while he was in the middle of reading an article about the Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape (SERE) training course that occurred in a remote mountain area of Maine. Distracted by his reading – he loved keeping up to date on Navy training – he had not paid attention to the items the girls had brought downstairs with them. Alex had grabbed his hand and applied a coat of polish to one thumbnail before he had even realized what was happening. Claiming they were having a hard time deciding what color to use on their nails before heading to dinner with Danny and Grace, they told him they needed to test the colors using his nails. He had considered protesting until Alex had given him that smile of hers – the one that he always fell for – and he had allowed them to paint his nails. Of course, they had run back upstairs before removing the nail polish. "They needed to test the colors before deciding," Steve answered Danny, before returning to his spot on the couch.

Glancing at the magazine as he claimed the recliner, Danny said, "You know, somehow I don't think the Army would approve."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Navy, Daniel, Navy. And, besides, you have a daughter; haven't you ever done something like this," he said, waving his hands in the air, "for Grace?"

"Tea parties and dress up, sure," Danny said, laughing again. "But that," he said, pointing, "never."

"Just you wait," Steve replied, his mind drifting back to a scene from nine years ago – during one of his first trips to Seattle – when Alex had wanted to do nothing more than what Danny had just described. He had flown there for Christmas and, despite all of the new toys she had received, Alex had wanted to do nothing more than play dress-up and have tea parties. The memory that had just entered his mind was one of four-and-a-half year old Alex, wearing his Navy white combination hat. It had kept falling and covering her face but she had insisted on wearing it for most of one entire day. She had looked so adorably cute stumbling around in his hat and his shoes. It was a good memory. "Give Grace a couple of years and you'll be doing the same thing."

A couple of minutes later, Alex ventured downstairs, carrying a bottle of nail polish remover and several cotton balls. Taking a seat next to her dad, Alex grabbed his hand and started removing the nail polish.

"I was thinking you were going to forget all about me," Steve commented, watching as Alex scrubbed the polish off of his nails.

"I wouldn't let people see you like this," Alex replied, tipping the polish remover bottle over to coat a cotton ball.

"I think it'd make a good addition to the hula skirt," Danny joked, flashing Steve a smile when he received a look from him.

Alex laughed and then, noticing her father's face, she stopped. "Sorry, Dad. Couldn't help it; it was the McGarrett in me."

"The McGarrett in you?" Steve asked, slightly amused. "What McGarrett's are you talking about?"

Locking eyes with his, she said, "The twelve year old you."

Steve shook his head. Her comment could only mean one thing: Mary had told Alex all about the practical jokes he used to play when he was younger. Things had certainly changed; he had changed.

"What happened when you were twelve?" Danny asked, leaning forward in the recliner.

Before anyone could answer, Grace came hurrying down the stairs, followed by Alyssa. "Look!" she said, stopping in front of her dad. "Aren't they pretty?"

* * *

><p>As they approached the front of the restaurant, Steve noticed that Alex had fallen behind and was standing at a storefront, staring through the glass at something inside. Telling Danny and the girls that they would meet them inside, he walked the ten steps back towards his daughter. She was watching the news report that was on the TV screen inside the store. Recognizing the topic of the report, he placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder.<p>

"It's him," Alex said, her attention still on the TV. "The cop who took me."

"How—" There should be no reason Alex could identify the Martin Engler's picture that appeared on the screen as the man who kidnapped her. Unless…

"Don't ask, Dad," she told him, turning to face him. Two days ago, when she was at her dad's office introducing Alyssa to Chin and Jenna, she had taken a glance at what Jenna had been looking at on the computer. It was a driver's license picture along with photos of a wallet that she had recognized as the one she had stolen from the cop at the cabin.

"Alex," Steve started to say. He had planned on telling her that one of the kidnappers had been located although he had not yet decided whether he would tell her of his death. Too late now, unfortunately, because the news had made that decision for him. Still this was certainly not the place to be having this conversation.

"He's dead." Alex's voice betrayed no emotion. "And it's your case." The news report had shown footage of the area near the crime scene and she had recognized not only her dad's truck but also him as he stood around talking to Chin and HPD officers.

"Yeah, it was our case," Steve confirmed, not entirely sure what Alex wanted to hear from him.

"Did he have a family?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah, a couple of kids and a wife."

"And did you get him?" Alex asked, looking back at the TV screen. "The man responsible for his death?"

"We found the man who pulled the trigger," he replied, not offering anymore.

"But not –"

Steve didn't let her finish her thought. "No, Alex. He's – I don't know where Wo Fat is."

"It's not fair," Alex said, starting to get emotional.

He cupped her chin with his hand and directed her head to look at him. Staring into her eyes, he promised, "We'll find him."

Alex shook her head. "That's not –" She expelled a frustrated breath. "He didn't deserve to die!" Her eyes filling with tears, she blinked them away and repeated, "That man did not deserve to die." She pushed past him and started heading towards the restaurant.

* * *

><p>After Alyssa headed for the bathroom, clothes in hand, Steve knocked on Alex's open bedroom door. Sticking his head into the room, he saw her standing in front of the dresser mirror, holding up two different pairs of earrings next to her ears. "Which ones look better?" she asked him, looking at him in the mirror.<p>

"I don't know," Steve said, sitting on her bed. "We're just going to be with the Boyers; why does it matter?" She was wearing a nice pair of jean Capri pants and a dressy shirt that turned her eyes to a beautiful shade of blue. They had plans to meet Alyssa's family at the airport, have brunch and then head out to do touristy stuff but, for some reason, the girls had wanted to abandon the shorts and t-shirts they had been wearing all week for dressier clothing. He didn't really understand why, especially considering they were in the middle of a Hawaii summer.

"Forget it," Alex mumbled, setting the hoop earring down and reaching for a colored stud that matched the shirt she had on.

Realizing his mistake, he stood up and joined her at the dresser. He looked at the earrings in her hands and, picking up the diamond studs that he had bought her for her thirteenth birthday, said, "I like these ones best." He gave her a smile, before continuing. "And you should wear the necklace that matches."

Setting down the blue stud, she took the diamond ones from him. "Can't wear the necklace – it's all tangled again." Steve shook his head. He really needed to buy her a jewelry box that had a place for hanging up her necklaces. He'd lost count of how many times over the last six weeks he'd had to untangle any of the three necklaces she had brought with her. Reaching across her for the necklace, he picked it up. Looking at his daughter, he said, "I'll fix your necklace but there's something I want to talk to you about first."

She finished putting the second stud in her ear and turned to face him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Alex," Steve told her. He wanted to talk to her about the conversation he had had with Martin Engler. "Let's go outside and sit." They headed out to the balcony; Steve sliding the door shut behind them. He pulled a chair up beside his daughter and sat down. "I want to talk to you about –" He was interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing.

When he hung up a few minutes later, Alex asked him, "You have to go to work?"

Steve shook his head. "I told you the Governor gave me the day off." Ever since Alex had been abducted, Governor Denning had been more than understanding about Steve's responsibilities as a father. He had given Steve more flexibility with his schedule on those days that he had obligations to Alex, as long as he was able to get his job done, which he made sure he did. Several weeks ago, after the Boyers' flight to Hawaii was confirmed, Steve had requested this day off, so that he could be there for the last day the two teenage girls would spend together for who knew how long. Despite Governor Denning's bringing Lori Weston on board to keep an eye on him, he was grateful for the Governor's understanding and willingness to allow Steve days off when he needed to be with Alex. "Alex, I –"

He was interrupted by a knock on the sliding glass door behind them. It was Alyssa, dressed and ready to head to the airport to meet her family.

* * *

><p>"She's a lot happier, Steve," Meredith Boyer commented, watching as her three children and Alex laughed as they sat huddled together on a bench. "Don't you think so, babe?" She asked, glancing at her husband.<p>

Charles Boyer nodded. "She's always been a positive and upbeat kid but that laugh," he said, with a nod towards the kids, "we haven't heard that laugh in a long time."

Steve smiled, watching the four kids. An hour and a half ago, the Boyers had arrived at the airport and, after picking up their rental car, they had followed him – the boys had wanted to ride in his truck and the girls rode with the Boyers – to Eggs 'N Things, where they were now waiting for a table outside. At the airport, Alyssa's younger brothers, Nicholas and Mason, had ran towards them, leaving their parents lagging behind. Although they had both hugged their sister first, they had seemed to be just as excited to see Alex again, throwing their arms around her for an extended amount of time. After Charles and Meredith had reached them, they had headed to baggage claim, with Nicholas and Mason chatting non-stop with both girls the whole time. After arriving at the restaurant, the kids had staked out a bench with Mason claiming Alex's lap. All the four had done was whisper and laugh during the twenty minutes they had been waiting. "Thanks," he said, turning his attention to the two adults. "It's been a rough summer for her, but she's doing well."

"Alex said you're filing for full custody," Meredith said with a smile.

Steve nodded. "I am," he replied. "She's –" He was interrupted by his name being called by the hostess. Getting the kids attention, they all headed inside, following the waitress to their table, where the kids claimed one end and the adults the other.

Reaching to pick up her menu, Alex's hand cramped up – as it had done on occasion since getting her stitches removed – and she used the thumb of her right hand to massage over the scar.

"Is that from the bad man?" Six year old Mason's question made everyone at the table stop their chatter and turn their attention on him, who was sitting across the table from Alex.

She glanced at her Dad, then the Boyers and, not getting any objections, she looked across the table at Mason. "Well," she said, "it did happen when I went missing."

His eyes filling with tears, he asked, "When you were with the bad man?"

Alex allowed a few moments to choose her words carefully. "Yes."

Giving into the tears, Mason got out of his seat and walked around the table, climbing into Alex's lap when he reached her. "Why'd you have to get hurt?"

"Bad things happen sometimes, buddy," she answered, hugging him. "But I'm okay now."

Pulling back to look her in the face, Mason wiped his eyes. "I don't like when you get hurt."

Reaching a hand over to rub her brother's back, Alyssa spoke up. "It's okay, Mase. She's okay now."

"Does it hurt?" The question came from eleven year old Nicholas, who was sitting next to Alex. When his parents had told him, his sister, and his little brother about what happened to Alex earlier that summer, he had asked them a lot of questions – questions that they had never answered. He had been really scared when he had found out someone had taken her – he thought of Alex as another big sister – especially when he could hear his sister crying in her room at night about it. Even after his parents had told them that Alex was safe at home with her Dad, they wouldn't answer his questions and that had made him mad.

"Not really," Alex assured him, looking at him. "Just sometimes it doesn't want to work like it used to."

"Did the kidnapper do that to you?" That was one of the questions he had asked his parents – if the kidnapper had hurt Alex. All they would tell him was that she had to stay in the hospital overnight. His sister had been the one to tell him – with promises to not tell their parents that he knew – that Alex had been hurt a little bit, but that she was going to be okay.

Not wanting to lie but also not wanting to scare them with the truth, she said, "It's just something that happened. Part of it is my fault." With her attention on Nicholas, she missed the look that crossed her father's face.

"It looks like it hurts," Mason said, tracing his finger along the scar on Alex's palm.

"It doesn't," Alex assured him, brushing his hair back off his forehead with her other hand.

"When you look at it," Nicholas said, standing up and moving to the other side of Alex so he could trace his finger along it, too, "does it make you think about what happened? Does it make you scared again?"

_Yes,_ she thought to herself, _it does make me think about what happened but not for the reason you think._ She reclaimed her hand and stared at it for several moments. Deciding on her words, she glanced at Alyssa and said, "You know what scars do?"

"What?" The boys had their attention on her face now.

"Scars mean that the hurt is over," she said, meeting their eyes one at a time. "When you have a scar it reminds you that you don't need to be scared anymore because you're not in the scary place anymore." Running her thumb along the scar, she continued, "Scars are something to be proud of because it means you're a survivor." Her answer satisfied both boys, smiles spreading across their faces.

"Cool," Nicholas said, reclaiming his seat. He was echoed by Mason.

"Tell you what," Alex said, wiping away the dampness that was still on Mason's cheeks. "Let's order our food and then – if it's okay with your Mom and Dad – we can go ask the hostess for a couple more of those activity sheets and get some extra crayons so we can color together."

* * *

><p>"What you said in there," Steve said, glancing at his daughter, "to the boys –"<p>

"I don't want to talk about it," Alex answered, looking out the window. All she wanted was to be at the Aloha Tower Marketplace for an afternoon of laughing, climbing to the top of the Aloha Tower, and shopping. Instead, here she was, stuck alone with her dad for ninety minutes as the Boyers went to check-in to their hotel and drop off their baggage before meeting them at the Honolulu Harbor area.

"All I want to know is if you really believe that it's your fault."

Alex sighed. "I said I don't want to talk about it."

"I understand that, Alex," Steve said, "but it's not your fault."

"You weren't there," Alex said, frustration evident in her tone. "You don't know what happened."

"Alex," Steve said, stopping at a traffic light. "I –"

"No, Dad," Alex argued, refusing to meet his gaze. "You don't know what happened so just drop it."

"That's just it, Alex," Steve said, exasperated at being interrupted not just once, but twice. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about earlier – I do know." When she looked at him with an expression of surprise, he continued, "Eng – I mean, Officer Engler – told me about how your hand got cut."

Alex kept eye contact for a few moments before turning away. "Yeah, well, he shouldn't have told you. It's not his story to tell."

"I know –"

He shouldn't have opened his mouth because, yet again, she was interrupting him. "That stupid shrink you make me go to tells me all the time it's not my fault. And, you know what? No one should tell me how I'm supposed to feel, and that includes you."

Steve expelled a frustrated breath as he watched the traffic light. He hadn't meant for his comment to sound like he was telling her how she should feel. He decided to just let her calm down for a few minutes before he approached the topic again.

"Most days I am so proud of myself for what I did – calling Uncle Danny; stealing the wallet – but," Alex said, her tone dry. "But, when I don't sleep at night it's not because –"

"You're not sleeping at night?" Steve asked, interrupting her as he stepped on the gas. Other than those couple of nightmares a few weeks ago, she had not said anything to him about not sleeping. That had him concerned.

Alex sighed and glared at him.

"Sorry," he told her, "finish what you were saying." He would ask her about the not sleeping after she stopped talking.

"When I don't sleep," she said, picking up where she left off, "it's not because I'm scared of the dark reminding me of the jungle. It's not because I think about when they first grabbed me or when I was in the van and he hit me." Looking down at her hand, she ran her finger along the scar. "It's because all I see in my head is him tying my arm to the chair and putting the tourniquet thing on my arm and then feeling my hand go numb. On those nights, as I lay in bed, I think I feel the cold metal of the knife against my wrist." As she talked, she didn't realize that her dad had pulled to the side of the road and stopped the truck. She traced the scar again, before absently rubbing her wrist where one of the ropes had been placed. "Most days I don't blame myself but sometimes I wish I was the girl that Mom wants me to be. I wish I had never fought back. If I had never taken the wallet, that man would never have did what he did." Placing a hand on her ribs – not out of pain; out of remembrance – she continued, "If I had just laid there and not done anything I never would have been hurt and if I hadn't had been hurt then you wouldn't have been hurt either."

Covering her hand with his, he told her, "Oh, sweetheart, you don't need to worry about hurting me. You're my daughter and whenever you get hurt, it hurts me. That's how it's always going to be, no matter how much you don't want it to."

She glanced at his hand that covered hers and then looked over at him, locking her eyes with his. "I'm okay, Dad." Pulling her hand away, she said, "And now you know like 90% of everything that happened so can we just stop talking about it?"

"About that, yes," Steve said, not really caring if his next statement would start an argument or not. "But we are going to talk right now about your not sleeping."

"It's not a big deal," Alex replied, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket.

Confiscating her phone, he argued, "Yes, it is, Alex. If you're not sleeping then I need to know about it."

She growled, frustrated. "It's not a big deal," she repeated. "It's not the first time I've had insomnia."

Frustrated and now even more concerned, Steve said, "Listen right now, Alexandra. I will not move this vehicle until we talk about this."

"And if we don't?"

"Then we won't be meeting the Boyers at the harbor."

Glaring at him, Alex whined, "That's not fair. You promised."

"And you promised you would talk to me about stuff that is bothering you," Steve told her, swatting her hand away as she reached for her phone.

"Sleep is overrated," she muttered, looking out the window.

"The choice is yours," he told her. He had meant what he told her – he would not be moving the truck until she answered his questions about her lack of sleep. Looking at her, no one would guess that she hadn't been sleeping, but, he knew from personal experience, that it wouldn't be long before it caught up to her. It was a problem they needed to tackle – together – and he'd be damned if he was going to let her get away with avoiding his questions.

"Fine," she finally said, growling again in frustration. "I haven't really slept in, like, five days." Glancing at him, she said, "And you really don't need to worry because my record is six days and then I crash hard."

* * *

><p>The exact edition of the magazine (All Hands Magazine – A Navy magazine) Steve is reading in this chapter can be found here: .milmedia/allhands/flash/ah201106/


	14. Chapter 14

Rolling over in bed, Alex glanced at the clock. Ten minutes until the alarm on her cell phone was scheduled to go off with an early morning wake-up call. Her phone –which was not supposed to be turned on overnight – was turned to vibrate so it would not wake up her dad. If she was going to get everything ready for the surprise she had planned for her dad, she needed to make sure he wouldn't interrupt any of the preparation.

Turning on her back, she stretched, her mind drifting to the last couple of days. She had said goodbye to her best friend two days ago; a sad, tearful goodbye. She was so grateful for the opportunity her dad had given them to spend a few days with each other before Alyssa departed for her new home on the Asian continent. Hanging out at the mall; introducing Alyssa to Josh; hanging out at Kamekona's; lounging on the beach behind the house; swimming; having dance parties in her bedroom; joking around with her dad; going to brunch with the entire Boyer family; strolling through the Honolulu Harbor with the Boyers and dad; last week had been so much fun and full of so many good memories.

Mr. and Mrs. Boyer were some of the most amazing people Alex had the pleasure of knowing. They were the only image of a happy, successful marriage that Alex had in her life. Their relationship gave her hope that, one day, when she was in a relationship with some guy that it was possible to enter into a marriage that would last a long-time, if not forever. Their love and devotion to one another gave Alex hope that adult relationships could succeed, instead of drastically falling apart like her parents' relationship had. Alyssa was, and always would be, her best friend; despite their differences in so many ways, Alyssa understood her better than almost anybody. She was the only person – besides her Grandfather when he was alive and now her Dad – who she could cry in front of; Alyssa was the only one who knew her biggest fear in life and every ounce of anger she had towards her parents. Mason: he was Alex's little buddy. Not a single visit to the Boyers' could pass without Mason requesting that Alex draw a picture or color with him and, on most visits, Alex couldn't get out of there without helping him build a fort out of chairs, blankets, and pillows. If she ended up staying the night that was usually where she slept – on the floor, under the fort, with Mason curled up next to her. Then there was Nicholas – Nick – who was the Boyer most like her. They both just had this zest and zeal for life. They both wanted to experience everything life had to offer – from tasting every type of food known to man to traveling the world and learning to speak as many languages as possible to climbing Kilimanjaro and swimming with sharks; they wanted to do it all. If she had an actual little brother, she would imagine he would be a lot like Nick. It had only been two days but she already missed the Boyers – her second family – so much.

Her mind drifted to the forced conversation she had had with her Dad on Thursday, in his truck, while headed to meet the Boyers at the Harbor. She had been mad at him for bringing up the injury to her hand and had gotten even madder when she found out that the cop had told her Dad what happened. No one needed to know that sometimes she blamed herself for what had happened. Just like no one needed to know she had gone five days without more than an hour or two of sleep each night. But what she had been most upset about was not the fact that her Dad now knew what happened to her hand, but because he always wanted her to talk about things, with the exception of the one thing she wanted to yell at him most about. That topic was her biggest hurt – it hurt more than any pain her mom had ever caused her; more than bruised ribs, a cut hand, or being pistol-whipped or the memories of those pains – and she felt like she would never be able to talk about it with him. Alyssa was right: she would probably end up exploding from the anger before too long.

After their extended goodbye with the Boyers outside of their hotel on Thursday night, she and Dad had returned home, where she had proven to him that her lack of sleep would catch up with her soon. She crashed hard, falling asleep on the couch at some point, only to wake up in her bed at 6:30 Friday morning – an hour later than her usual wake-up. She had said goodbye to her Dad as he headed off to work and, after breakfast, had started her plan for today's surprise. If he found out where she had really gone on Friday – if he found out who she had spent it with – she would be grounded. Oh well, hopefully he would be so happy with his surprise that any thoughts of grounding her for lying to him would go out the window.

Reaching for her cell phone, she turned the alarm off before it signaled the wake-up call. She had set her clothes out the night before and, grabbing them off of the desk, she tiptoed to the bathroom, where she quietly got dressed, washed up, and brushed her teeth. Returning to her room to toss her pajamas in her laundry basket, she picked up her shoes and cell phone, sliding the latter into her pocket, and tiptoed into her dad's room, where she placed a handwritten note on his nightstand where he should see it upon waking. Before leaving his room she taped a second handwritten note to the back of his door – a note telling him to stay in his room until she told him to come out – and then quietly, slowly pulled his door closed and headed downstairs, making sure to avoid the creaky spot on the fourth step from the bottom.

She set her shoes down on the floor near the couch and headed to the kitchen, checking the time on her phone. She had less than two hours to get everything ready. She just hoped she could actually pull this off.

* * *

><p>"Alex!" Steve shouted again from inside his room. He had woken up twenty minutes ago and discovered Alex's note – both notes – instructing him to stay put until she said he could come out. He could smell breakfast cooking and it made his stomach growl. Five minutes ago he had shouted down to her and, shouting back to him, she told him he needed to wait a few more minutes. He could hear her shuffling around downstairs and wondered what she was up to.<p>

"Hold on a minute!" she shouted back upstairs. "Patience, Dad!" He rolled his eyes when she used his own line against him – he had told her several times this summer to be patient when it came to waiting in lines or being stuck in traffic. Finally, several minutes later, Alex shouted that he could come out of his room.

When he stepped out of his room and onto the second floor landing, he looked downstairs and saw his daughter lighting two candles that sat on the dining room table, which was covered in a table cloth, his mother's old China set up for two people, and several small chafing dishes – where had she found those? – lined up in the middle of the table. "What are you doing?" he asked, making his way down the stairs.

She gave him a smile, waving out the match flame. Headed towards the front door, she said, "I'm having breakfast with Uncle Danny."

"Um," Steve said, trying to figure out what was going on. "What about our plans for today?"

"I'll be back soon," she told him. "Enjoy your surprise, Dad," she said, before looking over his shoulder and saying, "You can come out now." She then stepped out of the house, closing the door behind her.

Turning around, Steve's heart skipped a beat as he saw the person who popped up from behind the kitchen counter.

"Good morning, Commander."

* * *

><p>Laying back in his recliner, with her cuddled up next to him, Steve moved his hand under her shirt, letting his fingers slide underneath the clasp of her bra. Upon hearing her voice an hour ago and seeing the way her body looked in those clothes, he had had that same physical reaction he always had when he saw her. But, aware of the fact that Alex could return in the next five minutes to pick up something she had forgotten in her room, as she had a habit of doing, he had ignored that urge and, instead, had hugged and chastely kissed Cath on the lips before they sat down to enjoy the meal on the table.<p>

"Your daughter will be home anytime," Cath told him, tracing a pattern on his chest over his heart and enjoying the feel of his hand on her skin. It had been way too long since she had last seen him. Heck, it had even been way too long since she had heard his voice.

Steve groaned, before meeting Cath's eye. "I know," he told her. "That's the only reason I haven't taken you upstairs." Gazing into her eyes, he still couldn't believe she was here. Over breakfast, they had avoided the two topics that Steve knew they needed to discuss: how exactly this surprise of Alex's had come together and how stupid he had been for never returning her phone call from all those weeks ago. Instead, they had talked about Cath's job with Navy Intelligence keeping her extremely busy and his caseload over the last few weeks. After they finished eating, he led her over to his recliner, pulling her down next to him, just content to feel the warmth of her body next to his. "So," he said, "time for you to tell me about why you're here." After he said it, he realized that his comment had come out entirely wrong.

"You're not happy I'm here?" Catherine asked, resting her hand above his heart.

Lifting her hand off his chest, he kissed her palm and then laced his fingers with hers. "No, Cath, I am." Kissing her softly on the lips, he said, "I am so happy you're here. It's just – the last thing I expected when I woke up this morning was to see you." He kissed her again, letting his lips linger longer this time.

"Your daughter," Catherine told him.

"What?"

Catherine smiled. "She called me on Friday, introduced herself, and asked if I would be willing to meet her for lunch." When her cell phone had rang two days ago, with an unfamiliar number on the caller id, the last person in the world she had expected it to be was Steve's daughter, especially considering she had never met or spoken to her before. "She met me on base and, even though it was only the food court, she bought me lunch and we talked. She told me she wanted to do something nice for you and asked if I could be here at 6:30 this morning." Letting go of his hand, she caressed his cheek and, smiling, said, "So here I am."

"That girl," Steve said, a smile splaying across his face. Sometimes, he just never knew what to expect from his daughter.

"Is quite a kid," Cath said, finishing his thought for him. When she had arrived at Steve's house, she had texted Alex – per Alex's request – and been ushered inside by the girl, who requested they be very quiet. The food had already been put on the table and Alex, refusing her help, had proceeded to finish setting the table and place the candles in the candleholders. With nothing left to do but light the candles, Alex had asked her to crouch down behind the kitchen counter and then the teenager had yelled for her father to come downstairs.

"She is a better kid than I deserve," Steve stated. _Even if she lied to me about her whereabouts on Friday. _He'd be talking to her about that later, that was for sure.

"You –" Catherine started to say, before being interrupted by Steve's cell phone ringing.

Looking at the caller id, Steve groaned and then answered it, putting on the speaker phone. "What's up Danny?"

"Hey, buddy," Danny's voice came over the line. "I'm just calling to make sure it's safe to bring Alex home."

"Safe?" Steve asked, his hand absently rubbing Cath's back.

"Yeah," Danny said. "You know, just making sure you're dressed and –"

Steve rolled his eyes and interrupted him. "Not that it's any of your business, Daniel, but we are just talking." Guessing what Danny's next words would be, he continued, "Fully clothed."

"Wow, there's a first time for everything," Danny commented and Steve could imagine the smirk on his friend's face.

"Danny," Steve said, annoyance creeping into his tone.

"Relax, buddy," Danny replied, a trace of amusement in his voice. "I'll drop her off in twenty."

Hanging up, Steve looked at Catherine and apologized.

"It's okay," Cath replied. They laid there in silence for several minutes before she brought up the second topic they needed to discuss. "You know, there's something else we need to talk about."

Steve nodded. "You mean about me being an idiot?"

"If that's what you want to call yourself, then sure," Catherine agreed, giving him a small smile.

He locked eyes with her for a few moments. "I'm sorry. I know I should have returned your phone call."

"I know you were busy after she was found," Catherine told him, her hand returning to rest above his heart. "You were with her, taking care of her – as you should have been – but I was worried about you."

"I know," Steve replied, covering his hand with his own. "I just – I don't know – having my kid around changes things."

Lifting her head up, she looked down at him. "I've always known about her, Steve." The first day they met, six years ago, in Coronado, he had told her about Alexandra. She didn't know anything about Steve's relationship with his daughter's mother – if he wanted her to know he would have told her – but she knew from that first conversation that his daughter meant the world to him.

"Yeah," Steve said, laying his head back and staring up at the ceiling.

"Hey," Cath said, touching his face and turning his head to face her. "Are you afraid that her being here will change the way I feel about you?"

Steve shrugged. "I don't know, Cath. You're the first woman I've introduced her to." Seeing the look she gave him, he corrected himself, "Okay, you're the first one who has met her." He was not responsible for Catherine meeting his daughter. Alex had taken that duty upon herself, even though he wasn't entirely sure how Alex had located Catherine's phone number.

"She's your daughter, Steve," Catherine said, running a thumb over his cheek. "Her being here doesn't change anything." Then, with a sly smile, she admitted, "It might make things harder for us to spend time upstairs but…" she trailed off, giving into the urge to kiss him.

He laughed against her lips, then pulling back, said, "We'll have to figure out a way for you to come over when she's not here. Maybe Danny will take her." Then, matching her smile, he said, "Or maybe I'll come see you at your place."

Feigning shock, Catherine replied, "Danny was right – there is a first time for everything." He had visited her apartment once but he had been called away on a case before they were able to enjoy each other's company. Whenever they had made plans for dinner, they had always ended up back at his place before ever making it to the restaurant for their reservation.

He grinned and kissed her before saying, "I'm glad you said it's not going to change anything because she might end up being here longer than just this summer."

Catherine's eyes asked the question for her.

"I, uh," Steve said, brushing a strand of hair off her face. "I asked the courts to reverse the custody agreement and grant me full custody."

"That's great, Steve," she replied, seeing how happy the thought of having his daughter with him full-time made him.

Hearing a car horn honk outside, Steve removed his hand from under her shirt just in time, as the front door opened and Alex stepped inside.

"Hey, Dad," Alex greeted. "Be down in a minute." She headed up the stairs, returning to the conversation she was having on the phone.

Sending him a look of surprise, Cath asked, "Did I just hear her speaking French?"

A proud look appeared on his face. "My kid's trilingual." Not a man to pass up another opportunity to kiss her, he pressed his lips to hers briefly. "French and Italian."

"Boyfriend?" Cath asked him, referring to the person Alex had been talking to on the phone. Teenage girls usually only giggled like that for one reason.

"She won't be dating for a long time," Steve stated, more and more tempted to push back the age in which he would allow her to date. Especially after observing the way Alex interacted with Josh.

"Okay," Catherine said, opting to not mention that his daughter's friend Josh had met her outside of the food court after their lunch on Friday. Catherine figured it was better – for now – that Steve not know Alex had hugged the boy – and flirted with him – before introducing him to her.

"Hi, Dad," Alex greeted again as she came down the stairs. "Hi, Lieutenant Rollins." Stepping pass them, she said, "Any food left?" Reaching the table, she said, "Score!" Grabbing a bacon strip, she started eating.

Getting off the recliner, Steve and Catherine joined her near the table.

"I thought you went to breakfast with Danny," Steve commented.

Swallowing, Alex said, "No. We ate breakfast together. At his apartment." Grabbing a fork from her Dad's place setting and the bowl of fruit from the table, she continued, "He didn't have any milk I could drink so I had a handful of dry cereal and an egg; I'm hungry." Stepping into the kitchen, she hopped onto the counter. "We should go buy him some pots and pans so he can actually cook stuff."

"Off the counter," Steve instructed, before starting to clean up the dishes from breakfast.

Alex hopped off the counter and asked, "How was breakfast?"

"Good," Steve answered, setting dirty dishes in the sink.

"Great, actually," Catherine told her, smiling, as she carried one of the cooled chafing dishes over to the kitchen. "Did you really cook all that by yourself?" When she and Steve had uncovered the food, they had found French toast, eggs – scrambled and over-easy –, a fresh fruit salad, and turkey bacon.

"Yes, Ma'am," Alex answered, hopping back on the counter. Looking at her Dad, she asked, "How were your eggs?"

"Alex," he warned, giving her a look. He waited until her feet hit the floor before answering her question. "They were good." With all the chatting she had done last weekend while they had cooked breakfast for them and Mary, he didn't think she had paid enough attention to how to make eggs the way he liked them. Not that it was a difficult task to learn, but still.

"You don't have to clean up," Alex told Catherine, taking a second chafing dish from her and setting it on the counter. "You're a guest."

"It's okay," Catherine assured the girl, giving her a smile. "I don't mind."

"Okay," Alex returned, before grinning. "Don't you agree that dad should do the washing and you and I can dry and put the dishes away?"

"I think that's a great idea," Catherine agreed, glancing at Steve and giving him a smile.

Steve shook his head. Two against one; he had no chance. Especially when they both gave him those smiles of theirs.

Grabbing the bottle of dish soap from under the sink, Alex handed it to Steve, flashing him another smile. "Can she come with us today?"

"Um," Steve replied, turning around so he faced them both. "I don't know if –"

"Lieutenant Rollins," Alex said, interrupting her dad. "Do you have any plans for the rest of today?"

Catherine shook her head. "No."

Looking up at her dad, Alex said, "Can she?"

"Fishing isn't really her thing," he told her, turning around briefly to turn on the faucet. Yesterday morning they had made plans to spend the day fishing and relaxing at Kaluapuhi Pond, located near Marine Corps Base Hawaii. He didn't really think that Alex particularly enjoyed fishing but she knew that he did; it had been Alex who had suggested going fishing. Catherine, obviously, loved the water and enjoyed eating fish, but had never expressed any interest in actually catching fish.

Turning her attention back to Lieutenant Rollins, Alex said, "Dad says that if we catch enough for dinner then I have to help him cook. If not, then he will take me for shrimp on the North Shore. Would you like to join us?"

Steve shook his head at her comment, slightly amused. He had told her he would take her for shrimp if they didn't have any luck fishing but he had never said he would take her to dinner on the North Shore. As it was, he already was familiar with fishing at Kaluapuhi Pond to know that he would, most likely, be taking her to dinner.

Glancing at Steve, Catherine told the girl, "I don't want to get in the middle of your plans with your dad."

"I don't know about Dad," Alex replied, "but I think it'd be cool if you went with us."

* * *

><p>Sitting on the blanket, their lunch spread out in front of them, Alex and Catherine laughed as they looked at the pictures on Alex's camera. Steve just smiled, watching them interact with one another. After washing the dishes, storing the tablecloth and candleholders, wiping down the counters, and after Catherine agreed to join them for the day, the three of them had set to work making sandwiches and packing other food items that would serve as their lunch into a picnic basket. Leaving them inside to talk, he had headed to the garage for the fishing pole and tackle and then loaded those items into the back of his truck. Returning inside, he had discovered them hunched over in front of his laptop, laughing their heads off at something – he sensed it was the picture of him in a hula skirt – on the screen. Joining them, his hunch had been confirmed. They had made one stop on the way to the pond where, leaving them in the car as they chatted away, he had purchased some bait.<p>

Ever since Catherine had decided to join them, the two of them had been talking pretty much non-stop, with Alex asking Catherine about where she had grown up, about her job and where she had first met him. Catherine had been very receptive to all of Alex's questions and the dialogue between them flowed easily. Catherine had talked to Alex about Seattle – Catherine had played the role of tourist there a few times – and about school, and they had discussed Alex's love of running, her ability to speak French and Italian – they'd even held a short conversation in Italian, with Catherine using her limited knowledge of the language – and their mutual love of all things Hawaii. He had been surprised by how quickly they had both taken to each other, especially Alex, considering he had never mentioned Catherine to her, not even once.

When they had reached the pond, which was surprisingly un-crowded, they staked out a prime spot, partially shaded by some trees, about twenty yards from the water. Leaving Catherine to lay out the blanket, he and Alex had headed down to the water, where he showed her how to bait the hook and then, because it had been years since she had been fishing, he reminded her of the basics of fishing. They had hung out by the water for twenty minutes, before dropping the pole and returning to the blanket, where Steve had opened his backpack and tossed Alex a tube of sunscreen, making sure she applied it to her legs, arms, face, neck and ears, before doing the same for himself – he had to set a good example, after all. Then Alex had resumed chatting with Catherine, telling her all about how he had flown Alyssa out to visit her last week and about everything the girls had done together.

At one point, after lying down on his back, sunglasses covering his eyes, their chatter ringing in his ears, he must have dozed off. When he woke up, they were still talking – about what he had no clue – and, glancing at his watch and hearing his stomach rumble, he had suggested they eat lunch. Sitting up, he realized they had already consumed more than half of the strawberries they had packed. Claiming the rest for himself, he opened the picnic basket and they had set out their food. Barely two bites into her sandwich, Alex had pulled out her camera to show Cath.

His phone ringing, he set down his sandwich, looked at the caller id and, silently groaning to himself, he answered it. Without saying another word, he handed the phone out to Alex. Looking at him, she just shook her head. She did not want to talk to her mother and he knew that. Holding the phone against his chest so Cindy couldn't hear, he said, "You have to talk to her at some point." Glaring at him, she took the phone. "Hi, Mom," she said, standing up. As she started to walk away, she said, "I left it at home." As she got further away, Steve yelled to her, reminding her that she needed to stay where he could see her.

* * *

><p>Fifteen minutes later, Alex tossed the phone on her dad's lap before starting to turn towards the water.<p>

"You okay?" Steve asked her, reaching out his hand to touch hers.

"Yep," Alex replied, not meeting his eye. She turned and walked away, taking a seat in the grass next to their abandoned fishing pole.

He took the last bite of his sandwich and, chewing, kept his gaze on his daughter's hunched over form. Swallowing, he turned towards Catherine and, meeting her eye, he said, "I'm sorry to do this but I—"

"Go, Steve," Cath interrupted, running a hand through his hair. After Alex had stepped away on the phone call, he had briefly explained that she had been going through a rough time with her mom and, he had admitted, that he would be surprised if this phone call ended any differently. She could tell that he had not wanted to pass the phone to Alex and, the entire time she had been on the phone, his expression had been one of concern for her.

He gave her a smile and then leaned in and kissed her softly. "Thanks." Grabbing Alex's abandoned sandwich and water bottle, he stood up and headed over to his daughter who was sitting, arms wrapped around her knees in a hug, face resting on top of her arms, just staring out at the distant boats in the water. Nudging her shoulder with the back of his hand, he showed her the sandwich.

"Thanks," she said, taking the sandwich from him and taking a bite.

Still standing he said, "You sure you're okay?"

"Yep," Alex told him, her mouth full as she looked up at him. Swallowing the bite, she said, "I've decided that I'm not going to let her hurt me anymore."

Squatting next to her, and plucking blades of grass with his free hand, he asked, "When did you decide that?"

Breaking into an amused smile, she looked at him and answered. "About five minutes ago." Taking the water bottle from him, she opened it and took a drink. "I figured that was better than ruining our good day."

Steve gave her a smile and sat down next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. Kissing her on the head, he said, "It has been a good day, hasn't it?" She answered him with a smile and then returned to her lunch.

After a few minutes, Alex spoke up, "Is she your girlfriend?" Her question startled him and, clearly, he didn't answer her quickly enough because then she said, "Aunt Mary and Uncle Danny say she is even though you don't call her that."

Taking a sip out of her water bottle, he looked at her and asked, "They talk to you about Cath?"

Alex shrugged. "Uncle Danny and I only talked about her this morning. And Aunt Mary and I talked about a lot of stuff."

"I see," Steve said, still unsure about how to answer her question. Truth was, he was crazy about Cath but they had never really discussed the exclusivity of their relationship or if they were officially a couple. Most of that was probably his fault. He knew that Cath was the only woman he felt drawn to in that way. He was fairly certain that Cath hadn't slept with anyone else either but if that made them boyfriend-girlfriend, he wasn't sure. If this was fifteen years ago, then he would say, without a doubt, that, yes, Catherine was his girlfriend. But now, after his six-year relationship with Cindy, her turning down his proposal, and then the sudden fallout of their relationship – and the terrible turn their relationship had taken since then – he wasn't so sure what his and Cath's relationship meant. Cindy had turned him into one confused man when it came to women.

"I like her," Alex finally said, seeing the conflicted look on her dad's face. "She's really cool and really pretty." His eyes back on her, she said, "So I'm just wondering if she's your real girlfriend or if she's like the type of friends that Mom used to have before she met David."

"What on earth are you talking about?" Steve had a pretty good idea what she had implied but he didn't want to believe that Cindy had brought men – many men – into her apartment to have sexual trysts while their daughter was present. Having a date over while Alex was asleep and unaware of what was going on was one thing, but, based on the tone of what she had just said, it sounded like their daughter had seen more than her fair share of men coming and going over the years.

Alex rolled her eyes. "I'm not five, Dad. I know about sex and I know that many people aren't in a committed relationship when they –"

"Okay," Steve interrupted, cringing. He never wanted to hear the word 'sex' come out of his daughter's mouth. That word and Alexandra McGarrett should never be talked about, thought of, or even mentioned in the same sentence, let alone said out loud by her. Regaining his composure, he asked, "So your Mom has had men over when you were there?"

Alex nodded. "She used to sneak them into the apartment in the middle of the night," she said, before cringing in disgust. "But they would wake me up sometimes." Meeting his eye, she continued, "It's gross."

"Okay," Steve told her, his mind processing what he had just heard. He definitely needed to ensure that if he and Cath were ever going to sleep together again that there would be no possible way Alex would see, hear, or even be aware of it. No kid should have to hear that, especially at the age of fourteen – or younger, as Alex obviously had been.

"Anyways," Alex said, popping the last bite of sandwich into her mouth. "I like Lieutenant Rollins and if you decide to make her your girlfriend, then it's cool with me."

Steve smiled at her, kissing her on the head again. "Thanks." Removing his arm from around her shoulders, he picked up the fishing pole and threw the line back in the water, not expecting to catch a single thing. "About this morning," he said, "we need to talk about –"

Alex interrupted him. "Aunt Mary said, and I quote, that you are "kinda dumb" when it comes to women." A gleam in her eye, she continued, "I figured if that was true then you would need all the help you could get so I planned the surprise for you."

Steve shook his head. Mary really needed to keep her nose out of his business, even if it had led to this amazingly, wonderful day. "And, how did you get to the base to meet her for lunch?"

"Rode my bike," Alex answered. "I'm grounded, aren't I?"

"I'm still deciding," Steve admitted. She had lied to him about her whereabouts on Friday and had ridden her bike much further from the house than he allowed her to do when she was alone, but, by doing so, she had brought him and Catherine together again. "You shouldn't have lied to me about where you were on Friday."

"I know," Alex told him. "You need to know where I am at all times."

"Good," Steve told her. "Remember that for next time."

Looking at the fishing pole, Alex said, "You knew we weren't going to catch any fish, didn't you?"

Her Dad's smile answered her question.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hope all you Steve/Cath shippers enjoyed this chapter! :) Please read and review! Thanks!**


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Yes! We're finally getting to what Alex is really mad with Steve about. I wrote this chapter very quickly and had to post before going out of town for a few days. My apologies if it's not written very well!

* * *

><p>"Good night, Lieutenant Rollins," Alex said, turning to face her before heading upstairs.<p>

"Good night, Alex," Catherine replied, "but please call me Catherine."

When she looked at him, her eyes asking for his approval, Steve told his daughter, "You can call her Catherine."

Alex smiled and returned her gaze to Catherine. "Okay. Good night, Catherine." With Catherine wishing her good night for the second time, Alex headed to up the stairs and into her room, closing the door behind her.

Hearing Alex's door close, Steve turned his attention to Cath. Reaching around her to open the front door he led her outside, pulling the door closed behind him. Pinning her against the closed door, he gave her that to-die-for smile and leaned in to kiss her, not erotically, but in a way that told her he was thankful for this day, thankful for her. When he finally pulled back, he tenderly stroked her cheek before tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "You still sure it doesn't change anything?"

Change anything? Of course it did, but not in the way he feared. Catherine didn't answer his question right away as she thought back over their perfect day and relationship. When she had first met him at an intelligence briefing in Coronado, she was attracted to him – his eyes, his smile, the cute little dimple in his chin. He filled out a uniform better than any man she had ever seen. When she had discovered that he was a SEAL, her attraction to him – his sexiness – had increased exponentially. That night, at a bar, after he had approached her and made her feel like it was just the two of them in that place, she had discovered that he had a mutual attraction to her, physically. For months after, maybe even a year or longer, their relationship was based purely on sex; they satisfied each other's most physical needs and desires.

Somewhere along the line, they started opening up more to each other – personal things – in those intimate moments of cuddling after giving into their passion and, eventually, they had learned to tell what the other was feeling with the most subtle change in facial expression. He talked more freely about his daughter and how much he missed her. He told her about his Mom dying in a car accident when he was sixteen and how, after that event, his father had shipped him and his sister off to the mainland. He talked about how difficult his relationship with his father was and how he hadn't seen his sister in many – too many – years. She had listened to the words he used as well as all the things he hadn't said and she found herself really caring about the man. And when she opened up to him – about her childhood, why she chose the Navy, and about her family – he had listened to her and, unlike other guys she had dated, he had actually remembered everything she told him. She started to feel like he cared about her as more than just the woman who could satisfy him sexually.

Over the last six years of their relationship, there had been three times when she felt that she had fallen in love with him. But then, either one or both of them would be deployed and they would go months without seeing each other, let alone talk to each other. Or Steve would promise to call, promise to stay in touch, and he wouldn't, not until something came up that required her Naval Intelligence skills. When that happened – when Steve was being Steve and she was acting equally stubborn – she started to believe that maybe she didn't love him. Cared for him, yes, but love him? She had never been entirely sure.

But now – after the day they just had – she knew that she was completely, truly, one-hundred percent in love with him. The moment that confirmed for her that she loved him – that she was _in love _ with him – was that moment at the pond after Alex's phone call, when he had joined his daughter by the water. Watching him with his daughter had melted her heart and made her misty eyed. He had been so gentle, so doting, so loving – it was obvious how much he adored her – and watching the two of them together – watching Steve's face light up, his eyes never leaving Alex's as they talked – had allowed her to see a completely different side to the man whose inner thoughts she could tell just by looking at him. Nothing made him more attractive than seeing him play the role of 'Dad'.

So had their day changed anything? Yes, it had. It had changed for the better but they had never said those words to one another; she knew him well enough to know he wasn't ready – not here, not like this – to hear her say those words for the first time. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. "I think I adore your daughter, Steve." She placed another kiss on his lips. "So, no, Sailor; her being here hasn't scared me off."

"I think she adores you, too," Steve told her, smiling, his hands resting on her hips as he pulled her closer. "So, maybe you'll want to come over next Saturday – if you don't already have plans?" When she gave him a look, he said, "No, not for – it's not," he expelled a breath, before explaining, "It will be Alex and me, just hanging around and I—"

"Is she okay with –"

He nodded, giving into the urge to kiss her again. "I have it on good authority that she is more than okay with you spending the day with us." During Catherine's visit to the bathroom at the restaurant, he had double-checked with his daughter to make sure she really was okay with him dating Catherine and, when she said she was, he had asked if she would be okay with Catherine spending more time with them. Alex, of course, had said yes. "But if you have plans or don't want to, then I understand."

"As far as I know," she replied, massaging the back of his neck with her thumbs, "I am completely free next Saturday."

"Good," Steve said, letting his hands roam up her back as he kissed her again, longer and more passionately this time. They only pulled away from each other when his phone vibrated in his front pocket. Reaching down, he removed it from his pocket, glanced at the caller id – Cindy – and decided to let it ring until his voicemail kicked in. She officially had the worst timing in the world.

"Do you do that when I call, too?" Cath asked, only partly joking. A struggled look crossed his face momentarily. Then it was gone. And, with it, she decided to end their great day and head home. "I should go."

Flashing an apologetic look, he took her hand, lacing their fingers together and headed towards her car. "I guess you can no longer say that I haven't fed you," he said, shooting her a smile.

She smiled back before making an argument. "Technically, your daughter fed me breakfast." Glancing at him, she continued, "Lunch doesn't count and the only reason you treated me to dinner is, again, because of Alex."

* * *

><p>The day after their fishing trip had been the Fourth of July and, upon finding out that Alex was home alone after her Dad caught a case, Mr. Sullivan had extended an invitation to her to join him and his sons at Schofield Barracks for the Army's celebration of the holiday. The event had been a huge barbecue, with loudspeakers playing a variety of music, a volleyball net and horseshoe pit, a couple of bounce houses for the little kids, dunk tanks, a face painting station, and a patriotic display of flags from each state in the nation. She had run around with Josh, meeting other kids their age, playing in a pickup volleyball game, playing horseshoes, successfully throwing balls at the target of a dunk tank – she had managed to sink not only Mr. Sullivan but also the Commanding General of the post – and lounged on a blanket under a tree, until her dad had showed up in the middle of the afternoon, sporting yet another band-aid on his face. They had spent the rest of the day and evening there – her Dad had thrown a football around with Josh and had talked to the General that she had sent underwater in the dunk tank – before they sat down with the Sullivan's to watch the firework show.<p>

On Tuesday, after her routine morning run with her dad, Uncle Danny had called, telling her that his ex-wife, and Grace's mother, wanted to meet her. A couple of minutes after hanging up with him, Grace called her, asking if she could come spend the day with her. So, that day, she had spent seven hours at the Edwards house, getting to know Grace's mom, helping her in her garden, and swimming in the pool and doing arts-and-crafts with Grace. Picking her up, her Dad had been in a bad mood which was why, when she had seen a sign for the Punchbowl National Cemetery – the cemetery where, she had recently learned, her grandfather had been buried – she had decided to not ask him to stop. Instead, at home that night, alone in her room, she had cried herself to sleep.

The second and third times she had lied to her Dad about her whereabouts had taken place on Wednesday. That morning, while he was showering after their run, she had taken the one tiny key off of his key ring, slipped it into her pocket, and returned his keys to their resting spot on his dresser. When he had called her later that morning, checking on her, she had told him she was at home – alone – relaxing in the backyard. In actuality, she was several miles away – with Josh – waiting for the man inside the shop to finish making a copy of her dad's key. When she called him later that afternoon for the required hourly check-in, she had told him she was at the library checking out books – that part was true– and that she would head home straight after that – that part was another lie. After making their last stop for the day, she had said goodbye to Josh and had made it home barely five minutes before her Dad pulled into the driveway. That was the night her insomnia returned.

The fourth lie came on Friday, when she told him she was at the mall with Josh and some of the kids they had met at the Fourth of July barbecue. In truth, she was with Josh – but they were clear on the other side of town. The next day, on Saturday, Catherine had come over for a visit and, after eating the food her dad had grilled, she had excused herself and headed up to her room, to fulfill the strong desire she had to rearrange the bedroom and go through all the items in the bedroom closet that hadn't been touched since she came to Hawaii. Upon going through the closet, she had discovered, in the very back, a button-up plaid shirt that had belonged to her grandfather. Pulling it out, she had smelled it – it had still smelled like him. When her Dad had come to check on her an hour later, she had been wearing the shirt; her Dad had looked at her – with an air of recognition – and then, without saying a word, had simply walked out of the room.

He had never said a word about the shirt for the rest of the weekend so on Monday – angrier than ever – she had lied for the fifth time, telling him she was at a playground, with Josh, helping him babysit Sam. The truth that day: Sam was attending a day camp on Schofield Barracks while she and Josh were taking themselves on a tour of the Makiki and Makiki Heights areas of Honolulu. The sixth lie took place on Tuesday; the seventh – and final lie – on Wednesday.

That morning she had again gone on, what she now considered to be, an obligatory hour long run with her Dad. Before he had left for work, he had asked what her plans were for the day and she had told him she would be meeting Josh and their new friends at Kamekona's. That part had been true. What hadn't been true was the part about where she and Josh would really be headed after getting shaved ice: the storage unit where her Dad had stored her grandfather's stuff.

That was where Alex found herself accompanied by Josh, around lunch time, on that Wednesday. She turned towards him when Josh spoke. "What about these?" He was holding up some items of clothing that he had just pulled out of a box.

She thought for a few moments. "The 'to go through later' pile." They had only arrived here ten minutes ago. Her whole point in coming here was to figure out what exactly of her grandfather's was here – there were a couple of things of his that she longed to see again – and, so, together, they had decided to separate things into two groups: the 'to go through later' group were those things that Alex didn't feel she needed to look at right away while the 'ASAP' group were the boxes that she and Josh would, somehow, cart back to her bedroom for further exploration. Getting to the bottom of another box, her breath caught in her throat and she picked up the item that had captured her attention. She had never, in her wildest dreams, imagined she would discover something like this. Holding it in her hands, hearing Josh mumble something about more clothes, she nearly had a heart attack when she heard, "HPD! Hands in the air and turn around slowly!"

* * *

><p>Speeding – with the lights and siren on – to the storage center where he had stored some of his father's things, the last people he had expected to see standing by an HPD cruiser, handcuffed, was his daughter and Josh Sullivan. Fifteen minutes ago, while heading out with Danny to interview a family member of their latest victim, he had received a phone call informing him of a break-in at his storage unit. He had received two calls over the last week from both HPD and the storage center staff letting him know that three storage units near his had been broken into and items had been stolen. The call he had just received from HPD had informed him that the suspects had been apprehended and, before taking them to the station, they wanted him – Steve – to check his unit for stolen goods.<p>

Getting out of his truck – with Danny on his heels – the first thought that crossed his mind was that his daughter, although a talented pick-pocket, was not a thief, especially one who would commit burglary or larceny. His kid was better than that, he believed that whole-heartedly. Then, approaching her, he had realized that she had blatantly lied to him about where she was and he was pissed.

"Get the cuffs off of them!" Steve shouted, running towards the HPD officers. "That's my daughter!"

Reaching them, Steve heard Alex said, rudely, "I told you," before muttering what he was sure was a curse word under her breath. Sending her a look as the officers removed the handcuffs from the teens, he asked them, "What the hell is going on here? Why do you have my daughter and her friend in cuffs?"

"Well, Sir," the young, nervous officer said, freeing Alex's hands, "as you know there have been break-ins here over the last week and we found these two, in your unit, rummaging through –"

Very angry, Alex said, rubbing her wrists, "I told you we used a key." She glared at the cops, not changing her look even after her father sent her a warning with his eyes.

"It's true," Josh said, rubbing his wrists, before giving into anger and shouting. "You pointed guns at us for no reason! We used a key and she has every right to be here. You had no right –"

"Joshua James Sullivan!" Jason Sullivan's voice boomed, climbing out of his SUV in full military uniform and walking towards them. "You better watch your mouth, right now," he said, stepping into place beside Steve, "do you understand me?"

Glaring at his father, Josh replied, "Yes, Sir."

* * *

><p>"What the hell is going on with you?" Steve asked, stepping behind his daughter as she stood in the middle of the storage unit. HPD had just left, after a lengthy conversation with both him and Jason. The young officers had apologized for the misunderstanding but both fathers, despite not liking the fact that their young teenagers had been handcuffed like criminals, had expressed their understanding. Their kids – both of whom had lied to their respective fathers – should not have been there in the first place Practically dragging his son to the car, Jason had waved goodbye to Steve. Left to deal with his own child, he had headed inside the building, where Alex had headed after he had told her to go wait for him while he was talking to the police.<p>

She refused to answer him as she held the box that she had only discovered forty-five minutes ago. She was angry at the HPD officers for ignoring everything she had told them about her right to be there and about using a key. She was angry at them for assuming she was some no-good criminal. She was angry at her Dad; he was the reason she was here in the first place

"Dammit, Alex," he said, more pissed off than he had been in ages. "Turn around and look at me." When she did, he could see that her eyes were dark, flashing with anger. "First off, you lied to me about where you were," he told her. "Secondly, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"You don't get it," she said as she told herself to remain calm.

"If this is about your Mom," Steve said, as Danny chose that moment to step behind him.

Not acknowledging Danny's presence, Alex scoffed, "Mom?" Disbelief filling her features, she said, "This has _nothing_ to do with Mom."

Steve expelled an angry breath. "I don't understand; what's going on with you? First you lie to me –"

"This is about you!" Alex screamed, not caring anymore about keeping it in. "This is about you and Grandpa and how you never want to talk about him! You never let me talk about him! If you hate him so much then why are you here? If you hate him so much you should just sell his house and get rid of everything!"

"Whoa!" Steve said, shocked by her outburst, holding his hand up. "You need to –"

Interrupting him, eyes growing darker, angrier, with every word, she screamed at him. "He was everything to me and you didn't let me come to his funeral! He cared about me more than anybody! He loved me more than anybody!" Her grip tightening on the box, she continued, her face turning red with anger, "He was _everything_ to me and you wouldn't let me come say goodbye. I, of all people, should have been there!" Shoving the box hard into the middle of his chest, she pushed past him, pushed past Danny, and, with hot, heavy tears, rolling down her cheeks, headed outside.

Stunned. Angry. Disappointed. Hurt. All of those words described Steve's reaction to his daughter's outburst. Turning around, Steve finally, despite being aware of his presence earlier, acknowledged Danny. Tossing Danny his keys, he said, "Lock up for me."

Catching up to Alex outside, he shouted. "Don't you even think about it!" His hunch was right: she was planning on taking off on her bike. As she snapped the strap of her bike helmet, he raised his voice even louder. "You will get your butt in the truck, RIGHT NOW!" Tears still streaming down her face, she glared at him with a look he thought only Cindy was capable of mustering. She climbed into the backseat of the truck and slammed the door. As if he needed a reminder that, in that moment, she hated him.

In the truck, five minutes later, the air was thick and tense. Danny sat in silence, feeling so out of place and yet concerned about the fight he had just overheard. Glancing at Steve – who had still insisted on driving despite clearly being in inner turmoil – he hurt for his friend. He had heard what Alex had shouted at Steve and, while it was clear that Alex believed everything she had said, the Steve he knew would never have denied his daughter the opportunity to attend her grandfather's funeral.

Driving away from the storage center, Steve's mind was racing in a million directions. He had hurt Alex by not being very talkative about his father. He hurt her by not realizing how much his father's death had affected her. It pained him to see the tears still falling down her face. A father's first instinct, upon seeing their child hurting, is to comfort her but he was so angry, so confused by what she had said, that he couldn't bring himself to do that. Not that she would have allowed for that anyway. He was lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear his phone ring until, finally, Danny shoved the phone in his face and told him the Governor was on the line.

Having assured the Governor that he and Danny were on their way, Steve hung up the phone and didn't say another word until he pulled up to their second crime scene of the day. Turning around to face his daughter, he ordered, "You will sit here and wait until we come back. Do you hear me?" When she didn't answer, he raised his voice. "Alexandra McGarrett! You will answer me when I talk to you!"

Narrowing her eyes at him, she answered quietly, "Yeah, I hear you." _But that doesn't mean I will listen to you._

When Steve and Danny returned to the truck twenty minutes later, Alex was nowhere to be found. Her bike and helmet were also gone.

* * *

><p>"Alexandra McGarrett!" Steve shouted as he stepped into his house and closed the front door behind him. He knew his daughter was home, having seen her bike laying in the grass in the front yard. "Get your ass –" He stopped shouting when, starting up the stairs, he saw her sitting on the top step, her anger clearly not yet subsided. Climbing the stairs, he stopped a few steps in front of her, looking down at her. "First, you're grounded," he told her, forcing himself to calm down. "No cell phone, no iPod, no computer, no leaving this house unless it is with me."<p>

Reaching behind her, she grabbed the items that she had already known she would be losing as soon as he got home. She handed him her cell phone and iPod, again giving him that look that he had never seen on anyone's face except for Cindy's until that afternoon. Standing up, she started heading towards her room. "I did not give you permission to leave."

She wanted to yell at him again, to remind him that she was not one of his sailors, but she bit her tongue and turned to face him.

"You will go downstairs and put your bike in the garage where it belongs," he ordered her. "Then you will help me make dinner. After that you will wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen." Choosing to not yell at her for the look she continued to give him, he continued, "Then you and I are taking a drive to the Sullivan's where you will apologize for getting that boy in trouble. Your behavior today was uncalled for and disappointing."

* * *

><p>That night, Steve sat in his recliner, nursing a pounding headache. His daughter had not spoken a single word to him since those four little words in his truck. She had done everything he had ordered her to do: put her bike in the garage; cook; wash the dishes; clean up the kitchen; and she had done it all, even eat, in complete silence. They had headed to the Sullivan's where he had found out that Alex had already called Jason to apologize for getting his son in trouble. Apparently she had called him while she was making the fifteen mile bike ride from the crime scene back to the house. Jason had directed the two teens to the backyard while he and Steve had talked over a beer.<p>

They both were kind of at a lost as to how to deal with the two fourteen-year-olds. The kids both had made valid points earlier – they had not committed any crime because they had used a key – Steve's key – to unlock the storage unit and the cops were wrong for automatically assuming that they were the people who had been breaking into units all week. The kids – mostly Josh – had argued that the cops should never have pointed their guns at them and they, most certainly, never should have handcuffed them, especially after Alex had pulled out her ID card to show that her dad was the man who rented the storage unit. But, still, both kids had flat out lied to their fathers about their whereabouts and, for that, they would be punished.

Having discussed that day's events – along with some other discussion about their military careers – he and Jason had come up with a plan to put their kids to work the next two days to teach them a lesson. It wasn't punishment, per se, it was more like "building character". At least, that was their story and they were sticking to it. They hadn't told the teens what specifically their "character building activities" would be, but they had told them that Jason would get them tomorrow and Steve would get them on Friday. Josh had started arguing with Jason while Alex had just glared at him.

Sitting there, Steve remembered the box from the storage unit that Alex had slammed into his chest. He headed out to his truck, removing the item from the floor behind his seat, and carried it back inside. The box – a small shoebox – had writing on the lid, handwriting which he recognized instantly. With a lump in his throat, he headed upstairs and into his daughter's room. He watched her sleep for a few minutes before treading lightly across the carpet and setting the box down on the desk. Stepping back, he stopped and leaned against the doorframe. Even though he knew she was asleep, he said quietly, "I know you hate me right now but I love you. Nothing is ever going to change that."

With her back to him, and fresh tears rolling down her cheeks, the awake Alex heard what he had said. When she finally could reply, it was five minutes later. "I don't hate you."

* * *

><p>AN: As always, thanks for reading. Please read and review!


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: My last chapter should have had a warning stating that it might cause crying! I'm sorry I didn't warn you. **

**This chapter was supposed to be longer but I have decided to split it into two.**

**WARNING: Slight reference to nudity and sex.**

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><p>"Just how long do you plan on giving me the silent treatment?" Steve asked, glancing at his daughter as he turned onto the Sullivan's street. It was a quarter to seven in the morning and he was dropping Alex off at the Sullivan's for her first day of "character building". He did not know the specifics of what Jason would be tasking to the two teens but he did know it would involve being outside at Schofield Barracks, performing some sort of manual labor. If nothing else, over the next two days, Josh and Alex were going to learn the meaning of hard work, taking responsibility for their actions, and the consequences of lying to their fathers.<p>

Having had less than an hour of sleep himself, he had roused Alex from a deep sleep at five thirty, and had been happy knowing that at least he didn't have to worry about her insomnia again, on top of everything else. After waking she had headed for the shower, taking a much longer one than she normally did, while he had prepared breakfast. Since she was going to be kept busy that day, he had wanted her to have a filling breakfast in order to maintain her energy until lunch. Despite having prepared two of her favorite things, blueberry waffles and fruit salad, – things that, although cooked rarely, had always earned him a smile – Alex had filled her plate, sat down at the far end of the dining table, and, without even a glance in his direction, had consumed the meal in absolute silence. After eating, she had disappeared upstairs until they had to leave for the Sullivan home.

During the twenty minute drive, he had tried multiple times to hear her voice. He had fiddled with the radio until he found a song he recognized – what it was he didn't know – as one of the songs she and Alyssa had danced to. Nothing. He had made a horrible attempt at singing along with the song – stumbling over words, singing totally off key – and, still, nothing from her. Not even a roll of her eyes or an amused smirk. Having had no luck, he finally gave up, not speaking until he asked her the question. When she didn't answer him he guessed it would be awhile before she spoke to him again and it pissed him off. He knew she was mad and upset and rightfully so but he would give anything to have her yell at him again. Anything was better than her not talking or looking at him.

Stopping in front of the Sullivan house, Alex took off her seatbelt, opened the door and got out as Jason and Josh Sullivan exited through their front door. When Alex turned back to grab her backpack off of the floor, Steve reached out his hand to touch hers and, in response, she pulled her hand away as if she had just placed her hand on a hot stove. With a sigh, he told her, "Make sure you drink plenty of water and put sunscreen on." As she turned away, he continued, "Alex, I –" the door slammed shut, "—love you."

With a wave to Jason, Steve pulled away from the curb and, picking up his cell phone, dialed Cindy. Getting no answer, he left a voicemail and then dialed her office. When that also failed, he decided he would continue dialing every number he had for her – her personal cell; her work cell phone; her office number; her house number; hell, he would even call David's cell phone – until he got a hold of her. They had a problem – a bigger problem than ever before – and he would make sure she knew that he was very much aware of yet another one of her lies.

* * *

><p>"But, Dad, this is totally unfair!" Josh argued, as his father held out a box of trash bags. His dad had just told him that he and Alex would be spending the morning outside, under the watchful eye of some fresh-out-of-basic-training-barely-older-than-them Private First Class, picking up every ounce of trash that could be found on the Army post.<p>

"Unfair is you lying to me," LT COL Jason Sullivan scolded, in the voice he used when reprimanding a soldier who had acted in a manner unbefitting of the military. "Unfair is my having to leave in the middle of a meeting to come pick you up after receiving a call from HPD. You know very well that your behavior reflects on me and could have an impact on my military career."

"HPD never should have called you," Josh stated angrily for the millionth time since yesterday afternoon. He was very aware that he, along with other military kids, are held to a higher standard of behavior, especially when their parent is an Army officer. He knew that acting in a negative manner could have devastating consequences on his father's career. He even knew about a friends' older brother who had gotten in trouble with German police – his father was stationed in Sembach with the 18th Military Police Brigade – and, as a result, the entire family had been sent back to the United States, with the incident being recorded on his fathers' permanent record. Josh understood his responsibilities and his duty as an Army Officer's son; he had never been in trouble before and, technically, he shouldn't have been in trouble with the police this time either. All he was guilty of was lying to his dad.

"We're not discussing this anymore, Joshua," Jason Sullivan told his son, crossing his arms in front of him.

"There are already people who pick up trash," Josh argued back, tossing the box of garbage bags at his dad's combat-boot clad feet. "We are not your soldiers."

Giving his son a look, Jason sternly replied, "No, you are my son and you will do as I say whether you like it or not."

Glaring, Josh continued arguing, "This is stup—" He was interrupted by the feel of Alex's hand on his crossed arms.

"Just forget it, Josh," Alex told him, catching his eye. She bent down to pick up the box of trash cans and then looked at Mr. Sullivan. "Do you have gloves we can use, Sir?"

Sending his son another look of warning, he turned to the girl and gave her a kind smile. "PFC Sonoma has everything you will need on the golf cart: water; gloves; reflective vests; some snacks if you get hungry before lunch."

"Alright, thank you," Alex said, tugging on Josh's shirt sleeve as she turned away.

Several minutes later, after obliging her dad's request, she finished applying sunscreen and then tossed the bottle to Josh. As he applied the lotion to his arms – mumbling his frustrations as he did – she slipped the ugly bright orange vest over her head and put her hands into the work gloves. Swiping an arm across her forehead, she wiped sweat from her face and waited for Josh to suit up. It was already a scorcher outside and it wasn't even eight in the morning yet. Hopefully, whatever Mr. Sullivan had planned for them that afternoon would involve being inside in the air conditioning.

With a final glare sent back in the direction of the building that housed his dad's office, Josh put the vest over his head, put the gloves on, and picked up one of the empty large black trash bags. As they made their way across the field, picking up pieces of paper, discarded food items, cigarette butts, and the like, they talked.

"I'm sorry I got you in trouble," Alex said, glancing at him as she bent down to pick up an empty Popeye's Chicken take-out bag and, next to that, leftover pieces of chicken that looked to have been there for a long time. Whoever normally cleaned this section of this military post clearly had not been doing their jobs.

"I already said you have nothing to be sorry for, Alex," he replied as they moved forward with their eyes peeled towards the ground. "It's not like we did anything wrong."

"True," Alex replied. _Other than lie to our dads._ "But I shouldn't have let you come with me." Yesterday morning when she had told him her plan to go visit the storage unit, Josh had volunteered to go with her. She had insisted that she would go alone, but, ultimately – obviously – he had won the argument and accompanied her.

"Look," Josh said, stopping in his place to turn and face her. "You're my friend and I could tell that it was going to be hard for you to go through your grand-dad's stuff." Glaring at PFC Sonoma when he blew a whistle from the shade of his golf cart to remind them that they were not supposed to be taking any breaks, he continued, "Even knowing what happened yesterday, - knowing how pissed off my dad is – I would do it all over again. No regrets." He flashed her a smile.

"Okay," Alex replied, sending her own glare towards the PFC; that man – no, boy – must be getting a kick out of watching his boss's son doing grunt work. Still, he didn't need to be such a jerk. They started moving again, intentionally skipping over a couple of disgusting items that had absolutely no reason for being out in public, let alone in the middle of a grassy field in the middle of a military base. "You never even asked why it was so important for me to go there."

Josh shrugged as he threw a couple more items into their shared trash bag. "You told me about your grand-dad the other day and I knew going to see his things meant a lot to you."

"Thanks," Alex said, swallowing the lump in her throat. Josh and she had quickly become amazing friends, not just because they had the same sense of humor, same drive for success, same sense of adventure, among other similarities, but also because they simply understood each other. From that first day they met at camp, they had just clicked; something about the two of them – something deep down – just made them recognize the potential friendship they would find in each other. She had cried in front of him, only a couple of days ago, which was something she could not do in front of too many people, especially so soon after meeting them. She had even told him – sparing certain details – about her kidnapping. He had told her the story about how he and Sam had come to live with their dad – his story had broken her heart. It was a story that he said he didn't tell very many people and she felt privileged and special that he had felt comfortable enough to share it with her. "Why didn't you ever ask me about when I was kidnapped?" She knew it was a change of topic but, still, it was something she had wanted to know for awhile now.

Josh shrugged again. "Why didn't you ever ask me about my mom?" Even though it wasn't uncommon for kids to be raised in a single-parent household, Josh had grown used to being asked about his mom – why he and Sam lived with their dad; why she wasn't around; why they didn't have any pictures of her in the house – over the last five years. People were always going to be curious, he guessed. Alex had been the first of his peers in three years who hadn't inquired about his mom. After he had opened up to her about that particular situation she had allowed him the time he needed to deal with the memories and then they had moved onto another topic. They hadn't discussed it since.

"I figured if you wanted me to know, you would tell me," she replied, removing her gloves and holding them between her knees as she fixed her pony tail. "And, after you told me about her, I figured you would let me know when you needed to talk about it again." Sliding her hands back in the gloves, she continued, "I guess, I see it as something that happened to you – to you and Sam and your Dad – but it doesn't define you. If that makes sense…" she trailed off, catching his eye as he looked up at her from his squatting position.

He nodded. "That's why I didn't ask you about the kidnapping. I mean, I recognized you from an Amber Alert photo that was still hanging up in our neighborhood even after you were found, but to me, the kidnapping is what happened to you once, on one occasion. It's going to affect you, sure, but it's not who you are – there's a heck of a lot more to you than that one event."

* * *

><p>His breathing back to normal, Steve kissed Cath's still sweaty forehead as his hand moved down to rest on the small of her back. "Not that I'm complaining but I really did come over here just planning to talk."<p>

After arriving home earlier, Alex – sweaty, dirty, and still not talking to him – had headed upstairs to shower. After nearly ten times longer than his normal, three-minute Navy showers, he had finally heard the water shut off, the hair dryer turn on and then off, as he continued with their dinner preparations. When everything was ready, he had yelled for Alex and, not getting a response, he had wandered upstairs where he found her sprawled out on top of her bed covers, fast asleep. After scarfing down a plate of food, he had prepared a plate for Alex and put it in the fridge. Then, relaxing on the couch with a Longboard beer, his head swimming with so many emotions, he made the decision to go talk to the one person he had no qualms about opening up with. Leaving a note on Alex's nightstand about the plate of food, he had headed to Catherine's apartment, asking if they could talk. Having welcomed him in, she had taken him to her bedroom before he had even begun to mention what was on his mind.

"Yeah," she acknowledged, smiling as she claimed his lips. When he had shown up at her door, she could tell that something was on his mind – he looked troubled, sad, and just not himself – and, knowing him the way she did, she invited him to her bed. Sex, for them, usually came first; the talking, second. Her fingers circling his nipple, she could feel him tremble under her touch. Forcing herself to focus on his heart, instead of his amazingly sexy body, she stopped what she had been doing and rested her hand on his chest over his heart. She laid there next to him, feeling his heart beat under her hand, and gave him the time he needed to collect his thoughts.

Finally, after several minutes of silence, she felt his hand leave her back as he shifted, resting both of his hands under his head. "Yesterday," he said quietly, with a hint of pain in his voice, "I saw my daughter in handcuffs."

"What?" Catherine asked, sitting up to look him. "What are you talking about?"

His eyes showing his pain as he looked at her, he answered, "Wrong place at the wrong time; big misunderstanding." Diverting his gaze to the ceiling, he said, "But my kid was handcuffed by HPD and it's all my fault."

"How is it your fault?" she asked, tenderly running a hand through his hair.

"She wouldn't have been there if it wasn't for me." He sighed deeply and then stood up. Giving her a final glance of his backside, he picked his shorts up off the floor and slid them on before heading to the balcony to lean against the frame of the open sliding glass door.

The way he slumped against the door frame and his voice – his entire posture – was off and she knew more was troubling him than just a misunderstanding with HPD. Getting out of bed, she picked up the item of clothing closest to her side of the bed – his shirt – and, slipping it on, joined him at the balcony, wrapping her arms around him from behind. Covering her hand with his over his chest, he stared out at the sun setting over the water for several minutes. "She yelled at me for not letting her go to my Dad's funeral."

"Oh, Steve," Catherine said, sympathetically, although not entirely understanding. It didn't make sense that Steve would have prevented Alex from saying goodbye to her grandfather, especially considering he had known how close the two of them were.

"She hates me," he said, painfully. "And I…" He couldn't complete his thought and his whole body tensed at the thought of losing his daughter because of something like this.

"Steve," Catherine said, stepping in front of him and touching his face. His eyes were so dark it worried her.

"Cindy," he spat, disdain dripping in his tone. He moved to sit in one of the chairs on the balcony; cradling his head in his hands after he sat down.

Giving him a questioning look, she tried to recall a frame of reference for that name. She had never heard him mention anyone by that name before. Then she understood. Kneeling in front of him, she put her hands on his thighs and asked, "Her Mom?"

Steve nodded in agreement, avoiding her eyes until he felt her hands on his arms. Lifting his head, he explained, "I wanted Alex here for the funeral. I had even purchased the plane ticket." Staring over Cath's head to look at the ocean, he said, "She needed to be here – she needed closure – she needed…" he trailed off, not capable of finishing his thought.

Cindy had lied to their daughter again and, this time, it was unforgiveable. He had finally gotten a hold of Cindy that afternoon, after leaving a dozen or so voicemails on four different phones. When he had brought up the fact that he now knew the truth about why Alex had not come for the funeral, it had taken Cindy a long time to respond. When she did, she had come clean about it, admitting to the lie. Alex had been hurting enough about the death, Cindy had said, so she had made the decision to keep their daughter from getting hurt anymore. So, she had told Steve that Alex had decided to attend the school field trip that had already been planned for the day of the funeral. He should have realized that Alex would never have chosen a field trip over saying goodbye to the man she idolized most in the world.

"But Alex didn't come," Cath said, stroking his cheek. When his focus returned to her, she continued, "Because your ex told her you wouldn't let her."

Steve nodded. His eyes filled with tears briefly, but then he blinked them away. "Alex hates me because Cindy lied. I mean, Cindy's lied before, but this…"

"Steve," Cath said, placing her hands on top of his. "First, your daughter _does not_ hate you. I know it may seem like it right now, but she doesn't. Trust me on that, okay?" He gave her a small doubtful smile. Rubbing her thumbs over the top of his hands, she continued, "Second: you _need _to tell Alex the truth."

Steve shook his head and, expelling a frustrating breath, he diverted his eyes from hers. "I can't."


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Huge shout out to francis who predicted, in her last comment, Steve's reasoning for not being able to tell his daughter the truth about her mother's latest lie! As always, thanks to everyone who has added this story to their alerts and has left reviews. **

**As a warning, this chapter may do one of two things (or both): make you cry OR make you not like Steve in the later part of this chapter. Either way, please don't hold it against me. The next chapter promises a "fix" to their current predicament.**

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><p>Pulling Catherine into his lap, Steve laid his head against her chest, taking solace in the sound of her heartbeat and the feel of her body against his. The sound of his voice vibrated against her chest as he repeated, "I can't tell her." Relaxing under the feel of her hands as they massaged his scalp, he moved his hand underneath the shirt – his shirt – that she wore. "I can't give Alex another reason to be mad at her mother." Alex and Cindy's relationship had made very little progress over the last few weeks after Cindy had returned to Seattle. In fact, he felt that it probably had gotten worse – not that Alex had ever confirmed his suspicions – but learning about her mother's lies had to have led to further disagreements between the two. He was not going to contribute to a further rift between them, no matter how badly he wanted Alex to know the truth.<p>

"Steve," Cath called his name. When he didn't lift his head to look at her, she directed his face upward with a hand under his chin. Locking eyes with him, she said, "I know she's the mother of your daughter and that you are concerned about their relationship but you cannot let Cindy's lies affect your relationship with Alex." His gaze shifted downward and he studied the floor. The expression on his face told her that he felt defeated; he was tired of Cindy's lies and he was tired of battling with her for their daughter's affection.

"I mean it, Steve," Cath continued, her thoughts floating back to that day at the lake and to the two additional lunch dates she had shared with the teenager over the last week and a half. "You and Alex have a great relationship and you cannot let her mother ruin that."

"Alex wouldn't believe me, even if I did tell her," Steve muttered, his expression hopeless.

"Then call Cindy and tell her she needs to talk to Alex about it," Cath suggested, disgusted at Steve's ex-girlfriend. She could not, for the life of her, understand why Cindy hated Steve so much that she would use – create – any ammo she could in an attempt to turn their daughter against him. She did not know any details about Steve's relationship with Cindy and it really wasn't her place to request that information from him, but Steve was a good father – that was clear to anyone who saw him with his daughter – and he deserved Cindy's respect for that. How did the woman not realize that the person who was most affected by her lies was not Steve – the target of her lies – but Alexandra? "You have a right to demand she do that."

At her suggestion, Steve looked at her, his eyes filling with a hope-filled light. He smiled at her and she realized that what she had just said had struck a chord with him. She returned his smile, before allowing his lips to claim hers.

This is why he loved talking to Catherine: she always knew what to say to make him feel better. Of course, he didn't understand why he, himself, had not thought about demanding that Cindy tell Alex the truth about the funeral. He should have done that earlier when he had talked to the woman instead of just expressing his anger over her lie. Cath was right: he could not let Cindy's lies affect his relationship with Alex. Their daughter deserved to know both the truth and which one of her parents had a penchant for speaking everything but the truth. He would call Cindy again on his way home – he didn't care what time it was in Seattle – but first he needed to thank Cath for her help. He would thank her in the best way he knew how.

* * *

><p>"A toothbrush?" Danny asked, as he, Steve, and Chin left headquarters, headed for their vehicles. "Really?"<p>

Steve smirked. He had just given Alex and Josh their assignment for the morning – clean every square inch of the office bathroom, which included scrubbing the grout of the tiled floor with a toothbrush. It was cruel, he admitted, and perhaps a little harsh considering the nature of their crime, but it was amusing, to say the least, and he wasn't alone in that sentiment. That morning when Jason had dropped Josh off at the house, Steve had told him his plans for the teens' second day of "character building". With memories of boot camp fresh in his mind, Jason had laughed at Steve's idea of providing the kids with a toothbrush to scrub the floor. Between yesterday mornings' trash pick-up duty, the afternoons' shoveling, mulching, and other garden building activities, and Steve's harsh cleaning assignments for that day's agenda, Jason had expressed his belief that the teens – although less than pleased about their punishment – would think twice in the future before lying to their fathers. Steve agreed with him. "Yes, Danny. A toothbrush and some elbow grease never hurt anyone."

When he had given the kids their assignment, he had almost succeeded in getting Alex to speak to him again. He had told them that they would have to scrub the toilets, wipe down the counters, restock the bathroom, clean the sinks and the mirror, wipe down every inch of the stall walls and doors, and scrub the tiled floor. When he had held up two toothbrushes, handing one to each teen, he could tell by his daughter's expression that she had wanted to argue with him. She had even opened her mouth to speak but then had opted to glare at him instead. He had wished she would have argued with him – telling him how stupid the whole thing was or refusing to do what he had ordered – but it wasn't like he could have forced her to talk to him. Now, the kids would be busy all morning on their hands and knees making the bathroom cleaner than it probably ever had been.

"Guess it's a good thing you only reserve that kind of punishment for Alex," Chin said, only slightly amused by Steve's idea of punishment.

"Yeah," Danny agreed, glancing at Steve. "He prefers to punish us by forcing us to face more gunfire than necessary when he runs into a building before backup gets there," he commented, referring to Steve's antics yesterday. Instead of waiting for backup to show up, Steve had kicked in the door of a warehouse located near the harbor. Within two minutes of entering the warehouse, Steve, with Danny forced to follow him inside, had come under fire from three suspected – and later confirmed – heavy narcotics and arms dealers. With bullets flying overhead, Danny had scolded Steve once again for his behavior which of course Steve had responded to with his usual claim that he had forgotten their deal about waiting for backup.

"We're cops, Danny," Steve reminded him as they approached Danny's Camaro. Bidding goodbye to Chin, who was headed out to follow-up on a lead on that day's case, Steve unlocked the car and got in. Once inside, he turned towards Danny and continued their conversation, "And it's not like you got shot."

"_This _time, Steven," Danny replied. "I didn't get shot _this _time."

* * *

><p>"Wait here," Alex instructed Josh, as she dropped the toothbrush on the floor barely five minutes after her dad had left the office.<p>

"Where are you going?" he asked, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall.

"I think my Dad forgot that I'm the one who cleaned and organized the utility closet," she answered, flashing him a smile. One of those days, all those weeks ago, after her kidnapping and subsequent rescue, when she had spent her days in her dad's office, she had grown bored and, with nothing else to do, she had opened the door to the utility closet. Finding that it could use some organization and a good cleaning, she had pulled everything out of it – including two large scrub brushes – before re-organizing.

Leaving the bathroom, she peered around the corner to make sure Lori wasn't looking in her direction. In addition to telling her and Josh to make the large bathroom spotless, and with Jenna having departed for the mainland weeks ago, he had instructed Lori – who her dad had relegated to the office after she took a nasty blow to the head during yesterday's case – to keep a close eye on them. She knew her dad had a hard time trusting her now and, in a way, she understood why, but to assume that she and Josh would shirk their punishment by jetting out of the Five-O Headquarters was absolutely ridiculous. Not only would they would _never_ dare to do such a thing, they both accepted the fact that they had to take responsibility for their actions, even if it meant doing stupid, nonsensical things such as shoveling dirt for hours on end as they did yesterday or scrubbing every inch of a bathroom until it sparkled and shined. But, just because her dad told them to use a toothbrush to scrub the grungy tiles didn't mean she would do exactly what he said.

With Lori distracted by the work she was doing on the computer, Alex shed her flip-flops and quietly made her way down the hall. Reaching the closet, she quietly and slowly opened the door. She found the two scrub brushes and put them under her arm before turning around and facing the shelf she had designated for bathroom supplies. She grabbed grout cleaner and an additional can of Lysol before nudging the door closed with her foot. She made her way back to the bathroom, sliding her flip-flops back on her feet as she did, and pulled the door closed behind her.

His face breaking into a wide smile as he saw the scrub brushes, Josh stood up and freed her arms of the cleaning supplies. Then, depositing the items on the counter where the other supplies were already placed, he said, "You are awesome!" Using the scrub brushes would easily cut off a good amount of time from their cleaning duty. If Mr. McGarrett were to catch them not using the toothbrushes as ordered, they would be in even more trouble, but just knowing that Alex had outsmarted her dad made it well worth the risk.

* * *

><p>"Where's Alex?" Steve asked Josh as the boy stepped into the room for lunch. He had been feeling extra generous today so, since he and Danny were already at Pearlridge Center, he had called Chin and then Lori at Headquarters, requesting sandwich orders from everyone. Then, they had placed take-out orders from Anna Miller's Restaurant, and Steve paid for lunch for his team and the teens. They had just returned to HQ five minutes ago, shouting to the teenagers that lunch was here, and then proceeded to the conference room, where, currently, Danny was emptying out the carry-out bag.<p>

"Washing her hands," Josh answered, before glancing past Steve. "She's coming now."

"You got the barbecue bacon burger, right?" Danny asked the boy, looking up at him from the seat he had claimed.

"Yes, Sir," Josh answered, taking his bag of food from Danny. "Thank you, Mr. McGarrett," he said, turning back towards Steve. He took a seat next to Chin, across from Lori, who was already diving into her sandwich.

"You're welcome," Steve answered, his attention on the girl entering the room. Despite walking right past him, Alex hadn't acknowledged him in anyway. Apparently she was still pissed at him. "So, how's the bathroom looking?"

"Good," Josh answered, knowing that Alex would not be talking to her dad.

"Great actually," Lori said, confirming Josh's claim. "Absolutely spotless like you wanted."

"Which two sides did you order?" Danny asked Alex, handing her the sandwich – grilled chicken breast with lettuce, tomato, and mayo – that they had ordered for her.

"I just want the sandwich," Alex answered, taking the sandwich in one hand and grabbing a bottle of water off the table with the other. "Thanks, Uncle Danny."

Glancing at Steve, Danny told her, "Your dad paid for it; he's the one you should be thanking."

Thinking for a few moments, Alex stood strong and resisted the urge to look at her dad. Her focus on Danny, she told him, "'Kay, but thanks, _Uncle Danny_." She was too stubborn – no, more like too angry – to allow herself to do the one thing she knew her dad wanted most: for her to talk to him. No amount of good food was going to change that. Instead, she would just do what she could to annoy the hell out of him. Then maybe he'd finally be open to talking about the reason she was so mad at him.

She moved past Danny towards Josh and then, hearing her friend and Chin talking about football, she changed her mind and headed for the second door of the room. Pushing the door open, she stepped out of the room and, letting the door close itself behind her, headed down the hallway where she dropped to the floor, back to the wall. Opening her sandwich wrapper, she made sure to not look up – even from this distance she could feel her dad's gaze on her – and instead she kept her head turned downward. Even when her dad brought her two of the side items he had ordered for her – macaroni salad and French fries – and told her she needed to eat more than just her sandwich, she had refused to look at him, had refused to say anything, until finally he went back to the conference room.

She knew she was acting childish but, frankly, she didn't care. She was too hurt and too angry. She hated that her dad hadn't even attempted to talk about her grandpa after she had yelled at him. She hated feeling like it was wrong – so weak of her – to still be so emotional about grandpa's death; she wished she didn't miss him all the time. She hated that she had woken up at ten o'clock last night, screaming from a nightmare, and that her dad wasn't there to comfort her or make her feel safe. She was mad at herself for hurting him: she should not have yelled at him the other day; she should not have said what she did. She hurt him and that made everything worse.

There was so much confusion in her mind. She felt so conflicted. The last two weeks she had barely recognized herself. She had never, for as long as she could remember, lied as much or been as secretive as she had the last two weeks. Even when she had lied to her Mom about where she was going with her friends, it hadn't been as frequent or malicious as her recent lies. She was scared: there were two weeks until the custody hearing; two weeks until her one-on-one meeting with the judge. Deep down, even with how bad things were between them, she wanted to stay in Hawaii, she wanted to live with her dad. Even still, she didn't like being placed in the middle; she didn't like having to pick one parent over the other. She wished her parents could just come to an agreement without making her talk to the judge. She wished she could stop acting like a brat all the time and she wished she could stop harboring these feelings of anger towards her dad – towards both of her parents – and just let it be. But she couldn't; she just wasn't strong enough to do so.

* * *

><p>As she got into the truck, Alex's anger towards her dad, which had lessened greatly for a span of two hours, was back in full force, after he had lashed out angrily at her about an hour ago. After lunch earlier, her dad had assigned her and Josh the task of cleaning the rest of the main section of headquarters – mopping the floor; dusting every surface imaginable; cleaning the windows – while he, accompanied by Chin and Danny, continued their investigation from this morning. He had left her and Josh under Lori's supervision once again. She and Josh had worked quickly, finishing their assigned tasks much quicker than her dad had expected. With nothing else to do, she had asked Lori if it would be okay if they cleaned the offices – dusting; mopping the floors; cleaning the glass walls and windows – and, after Lori made sure there were no case files visible to them, she and Josh had gotten back to work, starting with her dad's office first.<p>

As Alex had stood on a chair in his office, spraying Windex and cleaning the highest parts of the glass, Josh had taken over dusting. Her anger towards her dad had diminished greatly when Josh, standing near the wall that housed her dad's military awards and certificates and other notable framed items, observed that there were pictures of her there. Getting off of the chair, she moved across the room, seeing for the first time the new framed pictures on the wall. Where, eight weeks ago, there had not been a single sign that her dad even had a daughter, the wall now showed photos of her from over the years: her wearing his Navy hat when she couldn't have been more than five; her with a cast on her left arm at the beach in Coronado; the two of them on the ferry boats in Seattle; her holding up the first fish she had caught; her in a pink tutu at some dance recital; and a picture of her surrounded by roses, snapped two years ago when he had taken her to the International Rose Test Garden during a trip to Portland. In addition to those pictures, they had noticed, on his desk, a framed picture collage of the two of them – chock full of photos from their summer thus far – and a close-up photo of the two of them that Mary had snapped during their hike up to the petroglyphs.

Knowing that her dad no longer had reservations about displaying her photo made her happy and it had been hard for her to keep the smile off of her face as they had finished cleaning his office. She had even decided to leave her a dad a note, telling him that, even though she was mad at him, she still loved him. She had even thanked him for being a good dad. After her dad's office, they had moved to Chin's, then Danny's, then Kono's old office and finally finished in Lori's. After storing the cleaning supplies in the utility closet, Josh had asked Lori if they could go get a smoothie from a shop two blocks away. With Lori's permission, they had set out for the shop, with Alex in a better mood than she had been in all day. That had all changed the minute she and Josh had stepped back into Five-O headquarters.

As soon as they had entered headquarters, with their smoothies and an additional one for Lori, her dad had started raving like a crazy man, asking in a mean voice where they had been. When Josh had answered that they had finished everything he had assigned them – as well as additional tasks – and that Lori had given them permission after he suggested the idea of going for smoothies, her dad had started yelling at her. He had reminded her that she had not received permission from him to leave and then yelled at her for, once again, not telling him where she had gone. He had acted like a raging lunatic and it only got worse when she had bolted past him down the hall and into the bathroom, clicking the dead bolt in place barely a second before he had tried to open the door. He had then started pounding on the door and yelling at her to open the door. Having been completely unprepared for him to act that way, she had turned on the faucets in an attempt to drown out his voice – not that it had helped at all – and then sank to the floor, sobbing.

After what had seemed like forever, her Dad had finally stopped shouting at her. Immediately after that, she had heard a knock on the door and Lori's voice, assuring her that she was alone at the door, and asking if she could come in. Still sobbing, she had stood up and unlocked the door before sinking to the floor again. Up until that moment, Alex had never really liked Lori. In all fairness, she had never really given the woman a chance. In the weeks since Lori had been assigned to serve as a liaison between Five-O and the Governor, Alex had viewed her as nothing more than a snobbish and nosy profiler, who had a tendency of attempting to flirt with her dad. Earlier, in the bathroom, Lori had comforted her as she had sobbed and had even held back her hair for her as she puked into one of the toilets – and partly on the newly cleaned floor – after crying too hard for too long. After she had emptied her stomach contents into the porcelain bowl and curled up into a ball on the floor outside of the stall, Lori had cleaned up the mess and, then, doing something completely unexpected, Alex had almost started crying again. Lori had sat next to her, placing her head in her lap, and stroked her hair – an act that reminded Alex of how long ago it had been since her own mother had done that – until she had thanked Lori and they started to talk.

When they finally left the safety of the bathroom, Alex had seen Chin and Danny talking – maybe even scolding – her dad in Danny's office. Bypassing that particular office, Lori had led her into the conference room where they joined Josh. The three of them had spent the next hour talking and laughing until Mr. Sullivan had arrived to pick up his son. Saying goodbye, she and Josh had hugged and, Alex, very aware that her dad was paying attention, made sure to hug Josh tightly and for an extended amount of time. She had done that just to piss her dad off.

Now, here she was, alone in the truck with her dad, headed for some restaurant to eat dinner with Uncle Danny and Grace again. Clearly, her dad did not fully understand the concept of "grounding". If he did, he would have cancelled their previously scheduled dinner with the Williams and gone home instead. Not that she minded getting to spend time with Grace and Uncle Danny – she loved spending time with them – but she just didn't want to be around her dad, not after the way he had treated her that afternoon.

Sitting in his truck, with Alex in the passenger seat, Steve just sat there, keys still in hand. He doubted that Alex had even noticed that he hadn't turned the truck on yet. Danny had been right earlier when, after he and Chin had practically dragged him away from the bathroom door and into Danny's office, he told Steve that he was out of line for yelling at Alex the way he had. Having overhead his conversation with Cindy that afternoon, Danny told Steve that his anger should have been directed elsewhere, and not at his daughter. Chin had supported Danny and had argued that Steve needed to take a different approach to remedying his relationship with Alex. They both were right, Steve realized that now; his anger had been misplaced. It should have been directed at Cindy and not at Alex. "I'm sorry."

She heard his apology but didn't acknowledge it. She was too mad at him to accept his apology.

"Alex," he said, with a sigh. "Please look at me." She turned her head to look at him, the pain in her eyes matching the guilt he felt in his heart. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I never should have acted the way I did. I never should have yelled at you like I did." He waited for a response and, based on the last three days, did not really expect to get one.

"Okay."

Her response was so quiet that, at first, he thought he had imagined it. Her eyes met his again for a brief moment and then she turned away, resting her head against the window.

_Okay,_ he repeated to himself. It was only a single word – the first word she had spoken to him in over 48 hours – but it was still something. It was a sign of progress, a sign of hope, and he would take it.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: I cried while writing this chapter and then I cried again when I edited the chapter. **

* * *

><p>"Where's Alex?" Steve asked Grace as she climbed into the booth next to her father. Twenty minutes ago they had arrived at the restaurant and a few minutes ago both girls had needed to use the restroom. Now, Grace had returned alone, with Alex nowhere in sight.<p>

"Her Mommy called," Grace told him, sitting on her knees and taking a sip out of the straw of her drink. "See." They were seated by the window and the girl pointed outside.

Turning to look outside, Steve saw Alex standing on the sidewalk, talking on her cell phone. On their way to the restaurant earlier, he had handed Alex her phone, telling her that she could only have it back for that evening as her mother was supposed to be calling. When they got home later, he would take it back for the remaining time left on her week of being grounded. He had also instructed her that if he were to catch her texting at all during dinner that he would add time to her punishment by holding onto her phone and iPod for an additional week. Still, he had not expected Cindy to be calling this early. Watching Alex, her face betrayed no emotion, nothing that could give him an idea of what the two were discussing. He only hoped that Cindy had heard everything he had said to her during their intense argument earlier that day and would, in fact, be taking responsibility for hurting Alex with the lie about his dad's funeral.

Seeing the waitress approaching, Steve rapped on the glass with his knuckles, getting Alex's attention. As she looked their way, he gestured towards the table, signaling that their food was here. She nodded and held up her finger, joining them shortly thereafter. As Steve got out of the booth to let his daughter in, she handed him her phone and then hugged him briefly before reclaiming her seat. Sharing a look with Danny, Steve sat down, a little confused by her behavior. Either Alex had just arbitrarily decided to forgive him or Cindy really _had_ admitted to the truth.

"I am really surprised you ordered that," Danny said, watching as Alex added ketchup and mustard to the greasy hamburger that made this place well-known by Hawaiian citizens and tourists alike. In the two months that Alex had been here, he had never seen her eat a burger, always choosing grilled chicken, shrimp or some vegetarian platter instead. And anything greasy? Forget it. She was the kind of kid who blotted grease off of pizza before eating it.

Flashing him a smile, she replied, "Well, you know, I did have a busy two days of 'character building'. I think that makes it okay for me to eat this." She glanced at her dad before testing her luck. "_And _I did have that really long bike ride the other day."

Steve sent her a look. "Not funny, Alexandra." That specific event was one of the biggest contributors to her grounding – she had flat out disobeyed him – and, as a result, he still was a little disappointed in and upset with her. Alex's eyes met his briefly before biting her lip to keep from laughing. Steve shook his head at her, letting her know she was still in trouble for that, and took his first bite of steak.

"What's 'character building'?" Grace asked, putting a French fry in her mouth. At her question, Alex and Danny both turned their attention to Steve.

"Character building is a way to teach someone to take responsibility for their actions," Steve told the nine-year-old. "It teaches the meaning of hard-work and how important it is to be respectful," he said. Catching Alex's eye, he emphasized, "and to not _lie to_ or _disobey _your father."

Alex glared at him, before diverting her eyes and taking a bite out of her burger. Here she was actually being nice to him – she had hugged him! – and, instead of relishing in that fact, he had to bring up her misdeeds again. Her dad was so frustrating sometimes.

"You lied to Uncle Steve?" Grace asked, looking at Alex from across the table, as she took a bite out of her cheeseburger.

"Let's not talk about that right now, Grace," Danny told his daughter, patting her on the leg so she would return to sitting on her bottom.

"But, Danno," Grace protested before Alex answered her question.

"Yes, I did."

Eyes wide, Grace asked another question. "Why? Danno says it's wrong to lie."

Alex shrugged. "'Cuz I'm a teenager and I was mad." Ignoring their fathers, the girls continued to talk as they ate.

"Why were you mad?"

"A lot of reasons," Alex answered, leaning forward as she put a sweet potato fry in her mouth. Acknowledging that Grace looked up to her, she knew she had to be a good role model and set a good example. So, even though she knew it was inevitable that she would lie to her dad again – it was only natural – she told Grace, "And your dad is right – lying is wrong. So learn from my example and don't do it."

Mulling things over, Grace ate her French fries. Alex continued eating in silence, not looking at her dad or Uncle Danny despite feeling their gaze on her. She wasn't sure if Uncle Danny appreciated her response to Grace's questions or not, but, after all these weeks of getting to know Grace, she felt a responsibility towards the young girl and, in truth, she actually viewed Grace as the little sister she had always wanted but would probably never have. She hoped that Uncle Danny wouldn't mind her being honest with his daughter.

"What kind of stuff did you have to do?" Grace finally asked, referring to Alex's punishment.

Taking a drink of water, Alex replied, "Pick up trash, shovel dirt, clean all of Five-O headquarters."

Grace made a face directed at Steve. "That doesn't sound fun."

Flashing his smug smile, he replied, "It's not supposed to be fun."

Catching Danny's eye, Alex smiled at him before saying, "Actually, Grace, it wasn't too bad."

Turning to look at her dad, she gave him that smile of hers that always made him think she had outsmarted him in some way. Like when they were potty-training her and, with her not responding to mere praise, he had implemented a reward system using Reese's Pieces. Not even three full days after the start of the reward system, they had been getting plenty of the intended behavior, but Alex had started cashing in on the candy pieces every fifteen to twenty minutes like clockwork. At three years old she had outsmarted both of her parents and, each time she would seek her reward, she would flash he or Cindy that same smile she was giving him now. He wasn't sure he really wanted to attempt to decipher the reason he was being given that smile now, especially if it had anything to do with the fact that she had spent 20 hours over the last two days working side-by-side with a teenage boy. The same teenage boy Alex had made sure to hug earlier just to annoy the hell out of him. He wasn't sure he was ready to deal with that. Resorting to a shake of his head, he ignored her comment and, instead, started a conversation with Danny about sports.

* * *

><p>Leaving the restaurant, the McGarrett's bid goodbye to the Williams', after Alex promised to take Grace back to play mini-golf one day the following week – whenever Alex was off restriction and on a day that their parents agreed upon – and headed in the opposite direction toward the truck. Having had to park two blocks away gave Alex some time to think and observe her father as they walked. What her Mom had told her earlier had shocked her – not only because, for once, her mom had admitted to lying – and it had reinforced that feeling of guilt that had been eating away at her since the moment she had lashed out at her dad. She never should have yelled at him. Instead, she should have found a way to discuss the situation with him in a grown-up manner instead of acting like a childish brat.<p>

As they crossed the street, she looked up at him, and, as a result of not paying attention, bumped into an elderly tourist – it was just so obvious that they were from out of town – and had to apologize, before helping him and his wife – they were really old and _really _slow and probably should have been in motorized wheelchairs – finish crossing the street. Then, with her dad's help, she pointed them in the right direction of some other restaurant often visited by tourists, before crossing back across the street and continuing on their way. With the truck in sight, Alex tugged on her dad's hand and pulled him off to the side, out of the way of the other tourists walking on the busy sidewalk. "You knew Mom lied about Grandpa's funeral and you didn't tell me."

Staring into his daughter's eyes, Steve couldn't quite believe it: Cindy had actually, for the first time in a long time, admitted to her wrongdoing, had admitted to her falsehoods. Well, at least, to that particular falsehood. "I didn't know that's what she told you until the other day."

Alex's expression was one of confusion. "But you still didn't tell me, even after I—"

"No, I didn't," he agreed, playing with the keys in his pocket. "I had my reasons." Nodding towards the truck, he said, "C'mon, I want to take you somewhere I should have taken you to a long time ago."

* * *

><p>Sensing where he had intended on taking her, she had tried to tell him, multiple times, that they did not need to go there tonight. But, each time she started to open her mouth, he had hushed her, telling her to just sit quietly. Of course, her hunch had been confirmed when they pulled into Punchbowl National Cemetery. If he had let her talk during the drive over he would have known that he did not need to lead her in the direction to her grandfather's burial site.<p>

As he led his daughter towards his dad's final resting place, he kept thinking about how he should have brought her here eight weeks ago, on that first night she was here. It wasn't until they were three headstones away from his father's that he caught site of the fresh bouquet of flowers. Glancing at her, he saw that she was watching him. Nodding, she told him, "I've already been here."

Stopping in front of the grave marker, they both squatted down; Alex ran a finger over the nameplate. "Josh came with me." That day, exactly one week ago, when she had lied to her dad for the fourth time about her whereabouts, was the first day she had come here. It had been a good thing that Josh had been with her; upon seeing Grandpa's name etched in the stone she had broken down and Josh had held her until she couldn't cry anymore. That was the day she had cried different tears – tears of finality; tears of acceptance – than her usual tears of simply missing Grandpa. That was also the day she knew that Josh Sullivan would become one of her best friends. They had come back here together several times since then and she had stopped by here two days ago, on her bike ride home after disobeying her dad and fleeing from their crime scene after she had yelled at him.

Steve reached out and ran a hand through her hair. "Alex, I—"

Sniffling, she interrupted him. "It's okay, Dad." And, you know what? It really was okay. She had needed to get some kind of closure to Grandpa's death and, if her dad had been with her that first time she came here, she probably would have caused a scene by yelling at him.

"No, Alex, it's not," he argued. "You shouldn't have had to come here by yourself, without me."

Alex didn't answer him; her eyes were focused on the headstone, sweeping needlessly over the letters and dates etched there. Wiping her damp eyes, she looked up her father and, then, her eyes shifted, settling on something behind him. Standing up, she excused herself and stepped past him.

Turning in place, Steve's gaze landed on Alex as she approached an elderly man utilizing a walker. In one hand, the man held several small American flags. He watched as Alex spoke with him for a few minutes and then the two of them were headed further down the row of graves, Alex lending a supportive hand to his arm as they moved slowly but steadily towards their destination.

* * *

><p>Nearly an hour later, Steve found himself leaning against the hood of his truck, watching as Alex and the elderly gentleman placed a final flag near a headstone. Even though Alex had not asked his permission to wander off with the man, he had felt a sense of loving pride in seeing that her gentleness and kindness had obviously endeared herself to the man. As it was, she seemed to be pretty taken with him, too. As the two approached him, Steve stepped forward, offering to help the man get to his car, which apparently was parked directly behind Steve's truck. The man patted Alex on the hand, thanked her, and then took Steve up on his offer. Glancing at Alex, Steve answered the question in her eyes with a nod and she headed back to his father's gravesite.<p>

"She's your daughter?" the man asked Steve as they moved off of the grass and onto the concrete.

"Yes, Sir," Steve said, flashing a smile. "My pride and joy."

"Well, young man," the man replied, "she certainly just brought some joy into my life." Reaching the car, the man used Steve's arm to steady himself and then fished his keys out of his pocket before manually unlocking the driver's door. As Steve helped him get settled into the driver's seat, the man commented, "You know, I have no problem driving; it's the walking that slows me down. But that girl of yours made it a lot easier for me."

Steve flashed him another smile. "I'm glad she was helpful."

Putting his seatbelt on, the man locked eyes with Steve. "It's not very often I come across a kid her age who is willing to help out an old man like me. You've obviously done a good job with her."

"Thank you, Sir," Steve said, folding down the walker. "Back seat or…?"

"That'll be fine."

"You didn't have to rush," Steve told Alex as she approached the truck. The nice elderly gentleman had pulled away barely two minutes ago, after he and Steve had talked for a few more minutes. He had figured that Alex would be spending at least twenty minutes at the grave plot so he had been surprised when he turned around after waving goodbye to the man and saw Alex coming his way.

"It's all good, Dad," Alex replied, stepping past him to open the truck door.

Pulling out of the cemetery, Steve commented, "You really impressed that man with what you did."

Alex shrugged. "It's the least I could do for someone like him."

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, checking both ways before making a right onto the street.

Alex swallowed the lump in her throat, before repeating the man's story. "He turned 18 on the day of Pearl Harbor. That morning, he was on the other side of the island when the Japanese started dropping bombs. He was physically far enough way but…" she trailed off for a moment to blink away the tears. "By the end of the day, he had lost two brothers, a cousin, and a long-time friend. One of his brothers and his cousin were at the airfield; his other brother and friend were on the _Arizona._" Glancing at her dad as he stopped at a light, she continued, "The day after the attack he enlisted and within six months he was fighting at the Battle of Midway. When he came back to Hawaii at the end of the war, he had lost two more cousins, another brother, and two of his closest friends. In less than four years, he lost _nine_ people he loved. Seven are now buried here; two are resting with your grandpa at the bottom of the harbor." His eyes riveted on her as she spoke, the people in the car behind them beeped their horn.

She was quiet for a few minutes as she thought about the man and what he had told her. "Every year since 1949 – when the cemetery was dedicated – he comes back here on the anniversary of Pearl Harbor and places a flag on the graves of those seven men. His family used to come with him – his wife, his kids, his grandkids – but, for some reason, he's had to do it all alone for the last eight years. No one wants to spend the time with him as he visits his friends and family here." She rubbed her eye before stating, "He doesn't think he'll still be alive to make it to the anniversary this year."

"Did you meet him when you and Josh –"

She interrupted him. "No."

"Okay," Steve replied, wondering where else the two could have met. "How long ago did you meet him?"

Glancing at her watch, Alex answered with a shrug. "About an hour and a half ago, I guess."

Steve didn't reply right away. Not only was the man's story a remarkable one, but the fact that Alex had been so kind and helpful to a stranger that he had felt comfortable to open up to her in that way was incredible. From watching them together – the way they had interacted – had made him assume that they had met before. He didn't really know why he was surprised; Alex had always had a way about her that put people at ease and made them feel comfortable around her. As he thought about what Alex had told him, they sat in silence. When he finally spoke, he said, "You're a great kid." He wasn't sure why, but his comment did not have the effect he had intended it to have.

"No, I'm not," she said, defiantly. Then, with a voice full of guilt and sadness, she said, "I'm a terrible kid."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Steve said, stepping on his breaks and pulling to the side of the road. "Where is this coming from?"

"It's the truth," she replied, refusing to meet his eyes. "I can be so nice to people I've never met before but all I ever do is hurt the people who love me most. I am a terrible daughter and I get why Mom hates me so much."

Staring at her – more like staring at the back of her head – he was shocked. Never had he heard her say anything even remotely close to what she had just said. Sure, there were moments when she was self-deprecatory, never quite grasping the true value of her actions or abilities, but never had she seemed so... so depressed. He knew what this was about but, this time – just this once – he was not going to demand she talk to him. Instead, he would grant her the space and time that she so clearly needed. He turned off the truck, took his seatbelt off, and took the keys out of the ignition. "When you're ready to talk, I'll be on the beach."

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><p>Walking away from the truck and towards the beach, Alex's mind was full of many thoughts. Thoughts about her grandfather; thoughts about the man she had just met at the cemetery; thoughts about her mom's biggest lie to date; thoughts about the upcoming custody hearing. But nothing weighed more heavily than the fact that she had deeply hurt her dad. That all-too-familiar twinge of guilt hit deep in her chest when, approaching the spot he had staked out in the sand, she was struck by how defeated he looked sitting there. It occurred to her, for the first time, in that moment, that it wasn't just she who was still grieving for the loss of her grandfather – so was her dad. What made it even worse as she stared at his hunched over form was the reminder in her memory that her dad had been on the phone with Grandpa when he had been killed. That had to have made dealing with Grandpa's death one-thousand times worse for her dad. She had been stupid to not realize those things <em>before<em> she had yelled at him.

Taking a deep breath, she took the last ten steps over to him. Sitting down next to him, she said, "I really hurt you and I am so sorry."

His eyes were wet when he looked at her. "It's okay, Alex."

She shook her head and then, sorrowfully, said, "No, Dad, it's not okay. I shouldn't have yelled at you; I shouldn't have said the things I did. I am so very sorry that I hurt you."

"Yeah." It was all Steve could muster as he blinked away the moisture in his eyes and turned his attention back to the surf.

They sat in silence for a few minutes; Alex slipped out of her flip-flops and dug her toes into the sand. "I miss him."

When her dad finally looked at her, she admitted, "I miss him every single second of every single day. I miss him so much that it literally hurts me." Brushing a hand across her eyes, she continued, "He was there for me more than anybody – more than mom, more than you, more than _anybody_ – and then, suddenly, he wasn't anymore." She allowed the tears to fall down her cheeks. "For a long time I thought he was the only person who loved me, the only one who truly cared about me, and when you called to me he was gone, I just …" she trailed off, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. "Mom won't talk about him. You won't talk about him. After he died, I cried myself to sleep every night for a month. I still cry myself to sleep some nights because I miss him so much."

She barely reacted when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She diverted her gaze to the surf but Steve knew she wasn't finished talking. She brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them. She sniffled as she wiped more tears off of her cheeks.

"The thing with death is," she started, shivering as the ocean breeze reached them. "Is that you don't lose the person all at once. You lose a little bit of them every day. Like when I reached for my phone the day after he died because I expected to see his daily good morning text. Or on Thanksgiving and I expected the doorbell to ring because he'd be showing up for dinner. Or on Christmas. Or when I was at school and someone said the name 'John'." She swallowed hard, forcing the huge lump out of her throat. "Or when I went to the store in February and had actually picked out a birthday card to send him." Locking eyes with her dad again, she explained, "The cashier had actually scanned it before I realized that I could never wish him a 'Happy Birthday' ever again. And, maybe it's stupid, I don't know, but I actually used to hear his voice in my head." Tears were streaming down her cheeks again, her vision was blurry from the amount of water in her eyes, and this time she didn't bother wiping them away as her gaze was transfixed on some distant point on the horizon. "When I'd fight with Mom or not hear from you for a couple of days or have a fight with my friends or _anything_, I would hear his voice, giving me advice or just telling me he loved me. But, now, I don't – I can't –" Her voice quavered momentarily before she made herself finish. "I don't hear it very much anymore and I—" She couldn't say anymore as the sobs wracked her body.

Steve, who had only shed tears twice in the last twenty years – once the night his mother died and once the night Alex moved to Seattle – had tears falling down his own cheeks as he pulled his daughter close and hugged her tight. Letting her tears soak his shirt, he held her. He would continue to hold her until the tears stopped flowing. Then, and only then, would he respond to everything she had just told him. Only then could he explain about his own relationship with his father. Only then could he address her pain and confusion and heartache. Only then could he address his own pain, confusion, and heartache.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N:Part of this is really dialogue-heavy, but bear with me. It's important that Steve and Alex have this talk. Also, hope you enjoy the two flashback scenes :-)**

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><p>The shoulder of his t-shirt was soaked with his daughter's tears while his own tears – only shed briefly – had long ago created a damp spot in the hair on the top of Alex's head. As a man – as a Navy Seal – crying had always been a foreign concept to him and it had been a decade since he had last allowed himself to shed tears. His daughter's pain – her struggle to come to terms with her grandfather's death – had rocked him to his core. The two had shared a very close relationship – one that he or his sister had never had with their father – and, while grateful for that, it just made it more difficult for her to get some closure about his death. He knew she missed him, but he had no idea that she had spent so many nights crying herself to sleep, so many nights in pain, all alone.<p>

Like a young child, she wiped her nose on his shirt. "I didn't think I could cry anymore today." At least, this time, her emotional breakdown didn't lead to her throwing up. She started to pull away from him, but he, refusing to let his daughter see the dampness on his cheeks, pulled her closer to place a kiss on the top of her head.

"I don't hate him, Alex," Steve told his daughter, after feeling her relax under his arm. With his other hand, he wiped away the evidence of his tears. "I could never hate my father." When Alex had yelled at him the other day, one of the things she had accused him of was having hatred toward his father. He'd be the first to admit that his relationship with his dad had been rocky – he barely remembered a time when it wasn't – but to hate him? He could never hate his father. He'd tried to hate him – had wanted to hate him – especially after being shipped off to the mainland after his mother's funeral, but he just didn't have it in him. "I know I've hurt you by not talking about him and I'm sorry. It's just – it's hard for me to talk about him. My relationship with him – Mary's relationship with him – was different. He was different with you."

"What do you mean?" She asked, raising her head from his shoulder to look at him.

"How often did he tell you he loved you?" He asked her, despite already knowing the answer.

"Every day." For as long as she could remember, Grandpa had been the one person who consistently expressed his love for her. When she had been real young, he had made it a point to call her every day, even if he could only spare five minutes to talk to her. Regardless of how much or how little time they spent talking, he would always end the conversation by telling her he loved her. When she was eleven her dad had started traveling more for assignments that took him out of the country for weeks at a time. Based on the fact, that many times while overseas, he had limited cell phone service – if at all - he had convinced her mom to allow her to open an email account. Initially the sole purpose of the account was to give her the opportunity to communicate with him more frequently while he was traveling but, not long after, her grandfather had started sending her emails just to let her know he was thinking about her and missed her. Up until the night before her grandfather had died, every Sunday, like clockwork, she would open her inbox to find a lengthy email from him that always ended with the words, 'I love you, Princess'. Her grandfather had loved her immensely and she would never forget the way he made her feel. "Every single day."

"Yeah," Steve confirmed. His father had loved Alex more than he had probably ever loved any other person and, through every word and every action, he had made sure she knew it. Such a far cry from the man Steve had known growing up. "I only remember him saying those words to me three times."

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><p>"<em>Daddy!" the young Steve had screamed upon seeing his father enter through the front door. Reaching him, the boy threw his arms around his father's legs in a hug. <em>

_Detective John McGarrett squatted down to face his son, noticing the uniform the child was wearing. "What's this?"_

"_Mommy made it," Steve told his dad excitedly. "It's for carer day."_

_Confused, John looked up at his wife who was entering the living room, carrying their infant daughter. _

"_Career day," Doris explained, reaching her boys. When her husband stood, she pressed a kiss to his lips. "Each child is supposed to come dressed as what they want to be when they grow up."_

"_Yeah, Daddy," Steve said, tugging on his father's hand. "I look just like you now," he said, grinning. _

_John squatted in front of his son again. The kindergartner was right: he was dressed in a costume that looked exactly like John's own HPD uniform. Even the badge on the boy's belt was an exact replica with his own badge number imprinted on it. He led his son to the couch, lifting him to sit in his lap. "I love you, Champ, but please don't become a cop."_

At the age of five, he hadn't understood why his father had tried to sway him from following in his footsteps. As he grew older his father started working increasingly more hours, spending less time doting on his children, and Steve began to question his father's love for him. He often wondered, after spending many nights observing his mother sitting up waiting for dad to come home from a shift, if his father even was aware of how much stress his being a cop caused his family. It wasn't easy being the son of a cop; it wasn't easy for his mom to be married to a cop. At the age of thirteen, despite having abandoned his ideas of following in his father's footsteps years ago, Steve had lashed out at his father, screaming at him for missing yet another one of his football games, and declared to his father for the first time that he would never become a cop, he would never be like his father. If he had, for some reason, intended his words to wound his dad, he had failed. His father couldn't have been happier that his son would not follow his footsteps. Of course, many years later, his father hadn't been any happier – perhaps couldn't have been more disappointed – when Steve had decided to pursue life as a Navy Seal. His father had wanted him to be safe – to choose a job that was safe – and Steve had gone ahead and chosen the job that could, on any day, be exponentially more dangerous than policing the streets of Honolulu. He wondered what his dad would say now if he knew Steve was, in fact, currently a hard-working member of Hawaii law enforcement.

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><p>"<em>She's beautiful." <em>

_He looked up when he heard his father's voice. Turning his head, he saw his dad standing in the doorway of the hospital room, smiling in his – no, in their – direction. Looking down at the pink bundle in his arms, he corrected his dad. "She's perfect." Hearing his father's footsteps as he entered the room, he commented, "I said you didn't have to come."_

"_And miss my first grandchild?" John said, bending down to take a close-up look of his new granddaughter. "Absolutely beautiful. Absolutely perfect." His comment earned him a smile. _

"_Wanna hold her?" _

"_Of course I do," his father said, pulling a chair up next to his son. _

"_Alexandra," Steve whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his daughter's forehead, "Meet your Grandpa." He passed her over to his dad, whose face beamed with joy as he held the baby in his arms. Cradling his granddaughter in his arms, John's eyes flitted to Cindy, who was asleep in the hospital bed. _

_Following his gaze, Steve explained, "The anesthesia's really kicking her," glancing at the baby, he opted for a different word, "butt." Alexandra McGarrett – he was a father! – he had a daughter! – entered the world five hours ago, after a difficult, emergency C-Section. Born absolutely perfect, absolutely healthy, Steve and Cindy had held their daughter together during those first few minutes immediately following her birth. He had joined one doctor and a nurse at the side table while they weighed and measured his little girl. Behind them, on the operating table, Cindy had been getting her mid-section sewed up, when she passed out from, what would end up being, excessive blood loss. He and the baby – his tiny baby! –had been rushed out of the operating room while the doctors went to work. They had managed to stop the bleeding and, two hours ago, Cindy had been wheeled into this room. After breastfeeding their daughter for the first time, Cindy had drifted off to sleep and had yet to wake up. While she slept, he had just held their baby in his arms, staring at the most angelic being he had ever laid eyes on. He had fallen in love with his daughter the first time he laid eyes on her and, as he held her, his love for her grew immensely. _

_Feeling the baby stir, John looked down at her, seeing her eyes for the first time. They were the color of Steve's; the same color as Steve's mother's eyes. "Hey there, Princess. I'm your grandpa." Steve reached over and gently stroked his finger over the thin, blonde hair on her head while he listened to his father talk to Alexandra. He still really couldn't believe his Dad was here, in Annapolis, after telling him he didn't need to come for the birth. As it was, the due date wasn't even until next week. He still couldn't quite believe that he was now a dad himself, a dad to a beautiful little girl. Nose turning up at a smell, he locked eyes with his dad. "It's all on you, Son," his father said with a grin, passing the alert and now fussy baby back to him._

_Later, Steve found himself sitting next to Cindy in the bed as their daughter nursed for the second time. His lips pressed against Cindy's temple, and his arm cradling Cindy's as she held Alexandra, he couldn't take his eyes off of the insanely beautiful woman next to him who had just given him the best and most perfect gift he would ever receive. He was so enamored by both of them – his girls – that he hadn't noticed his father getting out of the chair and approaching them. He didn't notice until he heard, in a quiet voice, his father say, "I love you, Son," before leaving them alone for the rest of the night._

His dad had stayed in Annapolis for ten days, leaving his hotel room early in the morning to spend the day at the hospital during those days of Cindy's recovery and, later, at the apartment. He had been really great about giving he and Cindy time alone with their daughter and had occupied himself by keeping the apartment clean and cooking their meals. He had even helped them master diaper changes, baths, and burping. They had even managed to spend the entire visit without arguing. Of course, that truce only lasted until Steve returned to the Academy the following spring.

* * *

><p>"The third time he said it was right before he died," Steve said, watching his daughter's reaction to what he had just told her. She had pulled herself completely out of his embrace and was sitting with legs spread out in front of her, leaning back on her palms, eyes focused on some sail boats in the distance. She hadn't said anything when he briefly explained to her about the three instances when his father had said the words that had been so difficult for him to express to his own children, but so easy to express to his granddaughter.<p>

"He really did love you, you know," Alex finally said, thinking back to all those conversations she had had with Grandpa during which he had expressed the pride and love he felt towards his son. Bending her legs, she turned herself completely around so that she was sitting Indian style facing him. "But, really, only three times?"

He nodded. "Three times, that's it." He gave into the urge to tuck the loose strand of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear. She chewed on her lip and he could only imagine what was going through her mind.

"Grandpa spent his life protecting you, right?" she asked, not waiting for a response before continuing. "That's love in itself, isn't it? I mean, I know it's different than hearing the words because, well, I just know, but still…"

Steve nodded again, giving her a smile. There were still so many things that upset him about his father – spoken words; unspoken words; secrets – and nothing had upset him more than the fact that he and Mary had been lied to about their mother's death. However, being here now with his own daughter and, after the events of this summer, he realized that, if he were his father, he would have done the exact same thing. Fathers – good fathers, that is – do what they have to in order to protect their kids, even if that means lying and/or spending too many long, hard years away from them. Alex had made him see that he was more like his father than he had ever thought he was and that had made him harbor less animosity towards his dad. Still, there were times, like now, when he reflected on the type of relationship Alex had had with his dad that, while happy that his daughter got to experience that kind of love and joy, made him feel a little down at having wasted the time he and his father had been given together. They had spent most of Steve's formative years arguing about both everything and nothing and that fact stung just a little. "Yeah, keeping your kids safe is one way to show you love them."

Alex grinned. "See, so that's why you're such a good Dad, 'cuz you had a good teacher."

He returned her smile and leaned forward to kiss her on the top of her forehead, before deciding to explain more to her. "We fought a lot, Alex; we fought all the time."

She raised her eyebrow at him. She had never, not even once, seen or heard them argue with one another. "I don't – you didn't – what about this?" she finally asked, pulling the photo out of her pocket. "You didn't fight then."

Steve didn't look at the photo. He knew what it was and what she was referring to. "We did fight during that trip, actually." Seeing her brow furrow, he answered her unspoken question. "We just made sure you weren't awake to witness it."

Now that part made sense to her. Her dad had always been good – with only a few minor exceptions – at protecting her from overhearing any arguments. What she still didn't understand was why the two fought so much as her dad claimed. "What did you fight about?"

"A lot of stuff," he answered. _Some of which you will never know._ He kissed her forehead again. "Sometimes it was about you. Grandpa was disappointed in me; he thought I should have done things differently with you."

"He _loved _you, Dad," Alex told him. "He was _proud_ of you." She watched as doubt crept into his eyes. "It's true. He always told me how proud he was of you and he always told me I should be proud of you. You were his hero." _Just like you are mine._

Even if he believed it, he didn't think he had given his father any reason to be proud of him. His dad had been right so many times about so many things, especially when it came to the choices he had made in regards to Alex. He should have done things differently with her. Before he had a chance to comment, she stated, "I think he probably just didn't like that you got hurt all the time." Seeing the look that appeared on his face, she said, "You do get hurt a lot so don't deny it."

"Alex –"

"You remember Coronado?" she asked, referring to only one of several occasions when her dad had been injured during one of her visits to see him. On the particular occasion to which she was referring, her Dad had, at the last minute, been called to a mission somewhere in South America and, with her mom traveling in Europe for work, Grandpa had come to take care of her while her dad was away. He had been injured – shot in the arm – during the mission and taken to the Navy hospital in San Diego for his recovery. "You were shot and it really bothered Grandpa."

Purposefully not entering into another discussion about his injuries – multiple times this summer Alex had questioned him about the band-aids and bruises that he had come home from work with – he chose to bring up another memory from the night she had referred to. "Actually what I remember most from that night is when you came storming into the room, pushing Sam and the other guys out of the way, and telling us that we were all stupid for choosing to be Seals. You told us we should have been in the Army because GI Joe never gets hurt." Laughing at the memory, he reminded her, "Then you pulled a GI Joe out of your backpack, climbed on my bed, and proceeded to prove to us that he didn't have any injuries – not even a scratch."

Laughing, Alex replied, "You should know that no lecture is complete without a prop. And, I guess, as a seven year old, I thought it helped prove my point." Grinning, she continued, "Besides, it got them all to leave so we could spend the rest of the night watching the Disney channel."

After his team members had left his room that night – Alex giving each of them a hug as they departed – she had curled up next to him in bed, laid her head on his chest, and, with his arm wrapped around her, they had watched the Disney channel until she had fallen asleep four hours later. He had not realized she remembered that night so clearly. Guilt still on his mind, and with thoughts about one of Alex's earlier comments, he felt the need to start apologizing – again – for his mistakes. "I'm sorry I didn't say it enough." Seeing the confusion on her face, he explained, "I didn't always tell you that I love you. I –"

"Dad, it's okay," she interrupted him, covering his hand with hers.

"Let me finish, Alex," he instructed her. "Okay?"

She knew she wouldn't like what he was going to say. She didn't like when he started acting all guilty-like, especially when his voice took on _that_ tone but they were talking – they were actually communicating about things that had been left unsaid for years – so she owed it to him to hear him out. She nodded.

"It's not easy being my kid," he told her, leaning back slightly so his eyes were level with hers. "I know things have been hard for you and part of that is my fault. I should have done a better job at keeping in touch with you. I should have made sure we talked about more than school and the weather; I should have made it a point to know everything about you and what was going on in your life. I should have fought to come see you more." Surprised that she was actually maintaining eye contact with him – she had a habit of diverting her eyes when he was expressing his guilt – he continued, "I should have made sure I told you I love you more often." He brought his words full-circle, returning to their discussion about his father. "I should not have allowed my own difficulties in talking about Grandpa interfere with your need to remember him. I haven't always put your needs before mine and I'm sorry."

Sensing there was more to what he was saying – some underlying meaning behind his words – she said, "I know you love me, Dad. Years ago I thought Grandpa loved me more than anybody but now I know – now I _feel_ that you love me the most." She smiled at him, hoping that her words had the intended effect. He smiled at her, but remained silent, his eyes drifting towards the ocean, where the sun was just beginning its' descent over the water.

After several minutes of silence – hearing only the sound of the waves crashing to shore; the distant shouts of children; and chirps from a flock of Pacific Golden Plovers – Alex spoke as she rolled down the cuffs of her jeans. "Do you think everything happens for a reason?" When he looked at her, he only shrugged noncommittally.

"Well, I do," she told him, pulling her hair into a new ponytail. "I think that no matter what happens – good or bad – it has to happen in order for other things to happen later on." His undivided attention on her, she continued, "I mean, think about it: if Grandpa had never sent you to the mainland you never would have met Mom. If you didn't meet Mom I wouldn't be here. If Grandpa hadn't investigated the Yakuza, he wouldn't have been killed by Wo Fat. If that didn't happen, you wouldn't have come back to Hawaii and taken over Five-0. If you didn't come to Hawaii, I wouldn't have come here in May and if I didn't come here I wouldn't have been kidnapped." She stopped momentarily when he interrupted her.

"Alex, I don't think –"

"Your turn to let me finish," she noted. "Please?"

"Okay."

"Thanks." She gave him a smile. "Being kidnapped was shi – I mean, it sucked – but maybe I had to be kidnapped in order for the two of us to get close again." She smiled, reflecting back on those first few days after her rescue: they had bonded so much and, that time spent together, had led to a huge breakthrough in their relationship. That was one of the main reasons she wasn't depressed about being kidnapped – she still had her moments of anger and guilt – but that event had saved her relationship with her dad. "If we hadn't bonded, then I may not have told you about Mom and maybe you wouldn't have filed for custody. If you didn't file for custody, maybe I never would have yelled at you and we wouldn't be having this conversation right now." Turning slightly, she leaned her head on his shoulder and said, "Knowing how close it made us, if I could go back and have a say in whether I was kidnapped or not, I'd choose to be kidnapped all over again."

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><p><strong>Again, thanks to everyone who is reading. <strong>More people have added this story to their alert list, so thank you! Please feel free to leave reviews.<strong>**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: I have a personal deadline to meet so I'm writing chapters a lot quicker than before. My apologies for any errors. Also, I never intended to write such an in depth look at the items in the shoebox Alex discovered a couple of chapters ago in the storage unit but today that part was begging to be written. This is what I ended up with**

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><p>"Nice shooting, Joe," Steve complimented, an impressed smile on his face, as he removed the ear plugs from his ears. Last night, he, accompanied by Alex of course, had treated his former Commander and dad's old friend, Joe White, to dinner. After re-introducing Joe to Alex, Steve had listened to the two swap stories about his father – some of which he had heard before; others he heard for the first time. At some point during their conversation Joe had mentioned the old rifle that Steve's father had used to teach his son to shoot. After telling Joe that, no, he had not taught Alex how to shoot a gun yet, the two had made plans to visit the shooting range at the Marine Corps Base this morning, while Alex was meeting with her therapist. Steve had dropped Alex off at the hospital half an hour prior to her appointment and, with Danny's offer to pick her up afterwards, he and Joe had nearly two hours to catch-up and reflect on their years with the Seals.<p>

"Must be the rifle," Joe returned, standing and removing his own ear plugs before passing the rifle to Steve.

"So when are you heading back to Coronado?" He hadn't seen Joe since his escape from prison all those weeks ago and had been surprised to find out from an old Seal buddy on Saturday morning that Joe was back in town for an extended stay. He should have still been in California, at work, instead of in Honolulu.

"I'm not," Joe answered. "I put in a request to oversee Seal training at Pearl Harbor." Seeing the surprised look on the younger man's face, he explained, "The island seemed like a pretty good place to wind down."

Shifting his weight, Steve replied, "The thing is, Joe, I mean you're not a – you're not a fun-in-the-sun, hang loose, aloha type."

"They let you stay," Joe pointed out.

"Yeah, they did," Steve agreed, breaking into an amused smile. He had known Joe since he was eight years old – at least, that's when he remembered meeting him for the first time – and even back then Joe hadn't been the type who enjoyed life in paradise, preferring to both work on the mainland and pour himself into his work, with very few free moments of relaxation. Even when he would come to visit the McGarrett family, Joe had never expressed interest in surfing or relaxing on the beach or helping Steve and Mary build sandcastles. Everything was business with Joe and everything he had ever talked about with his parents was Navy related. If his dad could see Joe now, he'd be amused, to say the least.

They headed to Steve's truck where Steve popped open the lid of a cooler in the truck bed. Removing two bottles of Waialua Root Beer, he passed one to Joe before opening the second one and taking a swig.

"Alexandra seems like a good kid," Joe said, tipping his bottle at Steve, before taking a sip. "I can't believe it's been that long since I last saw her." The last time he had seen Steve's daughter was easily a decade ago, some time shortly before her mother took her to Seattle. Back then, the girl hadn't physically resembled her father – her hair had been dirty blonde; she had been short and somewhat heavy for her age; her eyes were more of a greenish hue like her mother's – as much as she did now as a tall, slender, brunette with eyes that changed color just like her father's. It wasn't so much her physical changes that had surprised Joe but the fact that, had he not known who her mother was, he would never have been able to guess. Where, at the age of four, she had been timid, reticent, and clung to her parents, Alex was now a confident, sociable, and independent teenager. There was absolutely no trace of Cindy in Alex – not in her mannerisms, her humor, her facial expressions; nothing in the girl resembled her mother at all. She was all McGarrett.

Steve nodded, his smile growing bigger. "She is – she's a great kid." Taking a swig of his drink, he said, "Yeah, she's fourteen now; seems like it was only yesterday when she was born."

"You remember the day you called your Dad to tell him Cindy was pregnant?"

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><p><em>October 10, 1996<em>

"_Dad," nineteen-year-old Steve greeted into the phone._

"_Hey there, Champ," he heard his dad return. "Didn't expect to be hearing from you." In the background, Steve could hear chatter from his father's obviously busy Honolulu Police Department office._

"_Yeah," Steve grunted out. He didn't need the reminder that this was the first time they had talked in five months, since that day before his sophomore year final exams had started. He hadn't even bothered to call his father to let him know how those exams went; he had doubted his dad cared anyway. As it was, he had been dreading making this phone call but he had no choice in the matter. "Look, Dad, there's something I need to tell you."_

"_Sure, Son, what is it?" His voice was clearer now; the background noise faded to a dull. Steve guessed his father had assumed – rightly so – that this was an important matter. But, then again, Steve calling was a rare thing so, of course, it would be something important. _

"_I, um," Steve started, before taking a deep breath. "I just thought you should know that I will be taking a break from school, starting with the spring term, for a whole year."_

"_You what?" His father's voice took on the tone that Steve had grown familiar with over the years. It was the one that told Steve his father was disappointed in him. "Do you—"_

"_There's a good reason for it, Dad," Steve interrupted. He realized he probably should have said his next piece first, instead of saving it for now. "Cindy's pregnant."_

"_Oh." _

"_The baby's mine," Steve confirmed, in case his father had any doubts. "As you know, the Academy has a rule that any midshipman who is responsible for a pregnancy must request a leave of absence, or face expulsion." He rubbed a shaky hand over his clean-shaven face. He and Cindy – in the entire two years of their relationship – had always practiced safe sex. Up until that night two months ago, on the eve of his return to the Academy, he had always worn a condom and she had been a strict adherent to a birth control regimen. Of course, as fate would have it, on the one night when they had opted to not use protection was also the night when Cindy's birth control pill – usually 99% effective – decided to fail. When Cindy had told him yesterday, her voice panicky over the phone, that she was pregnant, he knew right away that he had to do the right thing by his kid. So that morning, he met with the higher ups on campus and submitted his formal request for a leave of absence. The chain of command hadn't been too pleased with the news that he, a star pupil and strong leader on campus, had gotten a girl pregnant, but they had at least respected him for taking responsibility. Having graduated a year early from the Army and Navy Academy, his year-long leave of absence would actually have him graduating at the usual age of 22, instead of a year earlier, like he was scheduled to do now. Leaving in the middle of his junior year wasn't the most ideal of times, but he owed it to his future child to do right by him or her. There was no way any kid of his was ever going to think he or she was unwanted. He and Cindy would make this work and, for him, that meant taking the leave of absence. With the baby due seven months from now, in May, they would have the first five months of his leave to prepare for the baby's arrival and, after the birth, seven months before he would return to school. What would happen after his leave of absence ended – would he be able to commute to campus every day or would he have to move back into the dorms, leaving Cindy alone in her apartment with the baby – he didn't know just yet. Either way, in seven months, his whole world would change. "I'm going to be a father."_

* * *

><p>"One of the hardest phone calls I ever made," Steve finally answered, memories of that phone call all too vivid. "He wasn't very pleased about my leave of absence."<p>

"He was proud of you, Steve," Joe informed him for what was not the first time. "He was proud of you for making it into the Academy and then for being so successful, being the top of your class. But I think that phone call was when he was proudest of you."

"What did he think, Joe?" Steve asked with a touch of annoyance in his tone as he misinterpreted Joe's comment. "That I wouldn't take responsibility for my kid?"

"No, Son, he didn't think that," Joe answered calmly. "You were young and…" he trailed off, rethinking his words. "He was proud of you, Steve, not just for your service to our country. He was proud of you as a man and as a father. He—" He was interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing.

* * *

><p>"You're going to tell my Dad, aren't you?" Her voice did not betray the fear she felt in knowing that she was possibly facing being yelled at by her father again.<p>

"No," Danny replied, glancing at her as he turned off of Ala Moana Boulevard. "But you will." Having arrived early at the clinic where Alex's therapy appointment was scheduled, he had headed inside to wait for her inside the air-conditioned waiting room. Sitting there waiting for her, he had been checking his email on his phone when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the girl walking in the hallway, coming from anywhere but the therapist's office. Bypassing the waiting area, she had headed in the direction of the elevators that would take her to their previously agreed upon meeting spot in the parking lot. Hoping his hunch was wrong, he had approached the office receptionist and inquired as to Alex's appointment – Steve had listed him as an emergency contact, thereby granting him access to Alex's medical information – and, being told she had never showed up, he left the office, catching up to Alex as she stepped into the elevator. Realizing she had been caught, she hadn't even tried to deny that she had skipped out on her appointment. "As soon as we get to Headquarters you're going to tell him."

"How about," she started to ask, before hesitating briefly as she considered her proposition. "What if I promise to go to my next appointment? Can we just forget about telling my Dad then?"

_Nice try, McGarrett Junior. _Danny shook his head, catching her eye as he stopped for a red light at the intersection of Alakea and King Streets. After leaving the hospital, he had taken her to grab a bite to eat, as neither of them had eaten anything since the night before. During breakfast they had chatted about baseball as he had opted to wait until they were headed back to HQ before bringing up her error in judgment from earlier. "How about you promise me you'll go to your next appointment? And then you'll still tell your Dad."

"That's not fair," Alex argued, huffing out a breath as she crossed her arms in a manner that reminded Danny of her father.

"I thought you told your Dad you were done with lying," Danny commented, leaning forward to check for oncoming traffic. Seeing none, he made a right on red.

"I didn't _lie_," Alex declared, emphasizing the last word as she narrowed her eyes in defiance. "I never left the hospital; I never even left that floor." Glaring at him, she repeated, "I did not lie. I just didn't tell him I wasn't going to go."

"That's considered a lie of omission, Alex," he told her, coming to a dead stop in traffic again only two blocks away from the office. "Your Dad dropped you off at the hospital for that appointment and you failed to tell him you were going to skip it."

"So what, Uncle Danny?" Alex asked, wishing the stupid traffic would clear up so she didn't have to be in this conversation anymore. "If he would have listened to me when I told him it's a waste of time and money, I wouldn't have had to _omit_ telling him my plan to not go."

"You told him it's a waste of time?"

"Not in those words exactly," Alex admitted, after thinking back to her previous conversations with her Dad. "I've told him I don't like going and that it's stupid but you know how he gets with certain things – once he thinks he's right about something you can't convince him otherwise."

"Only certain things?" Danny asked, opting for some humor in this otherwise serious conversation. Sending her a smile, he continued, "I thought Commander Stubborn was like that with everything."

Alex laughed, her mood relaxing somewhat. "We're working on that. Well, at least I'm working on getting him to change that." Glancing at her watch, she muttered, "Finally," as traffic started to move again. "But, seriously, Uncle Danny, that shrink sucks at her job."

He acknowledged that Steve's daughter needed someone to talk to – someone who was not hard-headed like her father – and, true to the relationship they had created over the course of the last few weeks, she obviously felt comfortable talking to him. "Why do you say that?"

"She tells me I shouldn't feel the way I do about stuff," Alex informed him, turning in her seat slightly to face him. "I haven't been able to express any guilt or fear or _anything_ like that for weeks now. Telling me over and over again that it's not my fault doesn't help me. Telling me I have nothing to be scared of anymore doesn't help me. _She_ doesn't help me; she only makes things worse."

Turning the car into the parking lot, he located a spot near the building and pulled into it, putting the car in park. Turning the key in the ignition, he turned off the car and removed his seatbelt. Turning to face Alex, her eyes were on him, with a look that gave a clear indication that she had needed to have this conversation for awhile. "You're right; that doesn't sound like a very good therapist."

"She's not," Alex confirmed with a shake of her head. Removing her seatbelt, she complained, "And last week, all she wanted to talk about was the kidnapping. She didn't let me talk about what was really bothering me." Seeing the look in his eye, she explained, "No, not the stuff I yelled at Dad about last week."

Danny nodded. "Okay." His gaze flitted over Alex's shoulder and landed on Steve's truck turning into the parking lot. "What did you want to talk to her about?"

She bit her lip for a few moments. "I'm scared," she finally said, drumming her fingers nervously on her thigh. "I'm scared that the judge will send me back to Seattle."

* * *

><p>Seeing Danny and Alex enter Headquarters, Steve gave Danny, who was using his cell phone, a questioning look. Fifteen minutes ago, he had pulled his truck into a parking space three spots over from Danny's car. As he and Joe had walked towards the building, he had seen his daughter and Danny sitting in the Camaro, in the middle of what appeared to be an engaging conversation. Ignoring his own curiosity, he opted to not interrupt them and headed inside with Joe, discussing with his former mentor the apparent, yet questionable, suicide of Navy Seal Clay Garcia whose body they had just viewed at the coroner's office. It was a case close to both of their hearts. Steve did not personally know the dead Seal, but Joe had trained Garcia and, when Joe asked Steve to look further into it – Joe could not believe the Seal would have committed suicide – he had not hesitated to do just that, asking his coroner buddy Max to "unofficially" reopen the case. They had just received confirmation from Max that there was, in fact, plenty of evidence – inconsistent blood splatter; gunshot residue gaps in the victims' hand – to indicate the Seal had been murdered. Now, they were just waiting for Chin to show up at the office before heading into the jungle to check out the homicide scene.<p>

"Hi, Daddy," Alex greeted as she approached them. "Who was that weird Inspector Gadget looking dude that just left here?"

Catching the look that Joe shared with Lori, he delayed answering his daughter and, instead, asked Joe, "What?"

"Inspector Gadget," Joe murmured, an amused smile splaying across his face. Not even five minutes earlier, Steve had also referred to Max looking like Inspector Gadget. _Like father, like daughter._

Choosing to ignore Joe's comment, Steve returned his attention to his daughter, embracing her as she reached him. "That was Max – he works in the coroner's office." He kissed her on the head and then released her. "How'd your appointment go?"

"It was o—" She stopped talking when Danny shot her a look. Quietly she expelled a breath. "Actually, I was hoping I could talk to you about it." Glancing at Commander White and Lori, she stressed, "_Alone_."

Shooting Danny another look, he glanced around the room before settling his hand on Alex's shoulder. "Sure, sweetheart. Come on." He led her to his office, ushering her inside as he closed the door behind them. He took his seat, leaning back lazily in his chair, and looked at her from across the desk.

His scrutiny of her a little unsettling, she diverted her eyes over his right shoulder, her gaze landing on the photo of the two of them on a ferry boat, the Seattle skyline spreading out behind them. That picture was probably taken three years ago, when she was eleven, the same age she had been when she had visited the principal's office for the first and only time. Sitting here like this, with him staring at her across his desk, made her feel like she was in that office all over again. She focused on the picture for another couple of minutes before returning her attention to him. "Can I please stop going to the shrink? She's not helping me."

Returning his chair to the upright position, he commented, "I take it your appointment didn't go well."

Alex expelled a breath. Why couldn't he just answer her question with a simple yes or no? To hell with it, she was already grounded anyways; do the crime, do the time. "Dad, I didn't –" She was interrupted by a knock on the door: Chin.

Steve's gesture towards the door told Chin to give him a few minutes. His attention back on his daughter, he said, "I'm sorry; I have to get back to work."

"Yeah," Alex acknowledged, standing up. Her dad catching a case was both good and bad: it delayed their conversation but it also meant that his plans to put her to work doing clerical duties – he didn't trust her enough anymore to let her stay home by herself – would also be changing. Instead of giving him the opportunity to come up with another version of last week's "character building" activities, she made her own suggestion. "I know I'm still grounded and you don't trust me to be home by myself but would it be okay if I volunteered at Kamekona's for the day?"

* * *

><p>After leaving Five-O Headquarters earlier, Steve had dropped Alex off at Kamekona's, before heading into the jungle with Chin and Joe to inspect the campsite where Clay Garcia's body had been found. With the exception of driving his truck to various locations, he had barely had a chance to sit down since then. At the campsite, they had discovered a discarded alcohol bottle, about a quarter of which contained alcohol and some sort of sediment. Bagging that to deliver to Charlie Fong at the lab later, they had headed further into the jungle and, after deactivating a trip wire that would have instantly sent a shotgun shell into Chin's body, they had discovered a large marijuana growing operation. With the belief that Clay Garcia had also stumbled upon the crops, they used the six cameras watching the field to their advantage. Cutting down several of the plants, they lured the dope growers out of their hiding place where, upon driving down a dirt road, Steve released a booby trap of his own design and they were able to arrest the men.<p>

The bottle was later determined to contain Ketamine, a popular horse tranquilizer, and the fingerprints of Nick Drayton, the man who Clay Garcia had accused of sleeping with his wife. After pegging Drayton as an obvious suspect, they determined he had not been involved in the murder. They had then been called back to the coroner's office where Max showed them the body of a second Navy Seal, also from Seal Team 9, who had been found dead in the wreckage of a pickup truck accident. Upon conducting the autopsy, Max had discovered that the man had been unconscious prior to the accident – he had also been murdered. Steve and Joe had then headed back to the Marine Corps Base to talk to Commander Wade Gutches, who spends his day training Seals. After gathering absolutely nothing helpful – not that Steve didn't understand the need for privacy in regards to Seal identities – Gutches had told them to meet him at a Tiki bar at 2000 hours.

Now, he and Joe were in the truck headed to the Tiki bar on the North Shore and Steve owed his daughter a phone call. He had talked to Alex on Kamekona's phone briefly about four hours ago and, upon hearing that she had also eaten a late lunch, they had agreed upon having a late dinner together, which he now had to trade in for a meeting with Commander Gutches. Turning on the speaker phone of his cell phone, he dialed his home phone number. "Hey, Sweetheart," he greeted when she answered the phone.

"Hi."

He wasn't sure why but she sounded down. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she told him. "Just tired."

Steve smiled. "Oh, Kamekona worked you hard."

"I guess." Her tone suggested that she only said that to appease him. He decided to not push.

"I'm not going to make it for dinner," he told her, his eyes on the road as he drove.

"Yeah," she acknowledged. "I kinda figured since its quarter till and you're not here."

He apologized to her before explaining, "Uncle Joe and I have to go meet with someone about this case." When she didn't answer, he said her name. "Alex?"

"He's not my uncle." At her comment, Steve glanced at Joe before returning his attention to the road.

Steve cleared his throat. "Yeah. Listen, Sweetheart, I really am sorry about dinner."

He could hear her sigh before she replied. "It's okay, Dad. This isn't the first time I've had to eat dinner by myself, remember? I used to eat dinner alone almost every night back home."

So maybe that's what was bothering her: Cindy. "Did your Mom call you today?"

"No. Why?"

"Just asking," he told her. Picking up his phone, he turned off the speaker phone and put the cell to his ear. "We still have about ten minutes until we get there. You wanna finish our conversation from earlier and then we can talk about the rest later?"

She was quiet for several moments. "We'll just talk when you get home, okay?"

"Sure." Now she seemed distracted. "Hey, Alex?"

"What?"

"I love you."

Hearing her reply, he could tell she was smiling. "Love you too, Dad."

He disconnected the call and returned his cell phone to the cup holder. "Sorry about that, Joe." He glanced over at the older man. "I guess she's attached to only calling Danny 'Uncle'."

"No problem, Steve," Joe returned. The girl barely knew him; it hadn't been his idea to have her call him 'Uncle'. "Problems with Cindy?"

Steve scowled. "Me and Cindy? Always." He expelled a frustrated breath. "Alex and Cindy? Let's just say that if the judge sends Alex back to Seattle, I probably won't be living in Hawaii for much longer." He and Alex had not discussed what would happen if the custody hearing went in Cindy's favor but he had spent many sleepless nights thinking about what he would do. If, for some unfathomable reason, the judge ruled that Alex was better off with her mother then he would put in a request to be transferred to Naval Station Everett. Despite his desire to stay in Hawaii to hunt down Wo Fat and make him pay for his crimes, his need to be closer to Alex – her need to have him around – was more important. He would sacrifice his job with Five-O and move to Washington so he could see her every day. He wouldn't chance losing his bond with her again.

* * *

><p>When the line disconnected, she returned the handset to the phone cradle and headed back to the kitchen. She flipped the oven light on and, satisfied with what she saw inside, she opened the oven door and removed the dish of eggplant parmesan – made with lactose-free cheeses – and set it on the stove. Needing about fifteen minutes to cool, she turned off the oven, then turned around and stared at the shoebox that was on the bar counter. Ever since she had discovered it in her grandfather's stuff last week she had wanted to open it. Yet she just couldn't seem to bring herself to look inside.<p>

It was an old Nike shoebox, a little flimsy from age. On the lid, in her grandfather's writing, was printed the word 'Princess', what he had called her for as long as she could remember. Something rattled inside when she moved the box but she didn't have a clue as to what it could be. The other night at the beach, she had asked her Dad what was inside the box but he claimed to have never seen it before. It must have been in one of the two closed boxes that had been in his dad's office; he had never opened either of them. All he had done was pack up loose items into boxes in order to make room for everything he had shipped from Coronado. She believed his story but that hadn't stopped her from wondering why her grandfather had packed her gift at the bottom of another box.

Talking with her dad the other night had helped bring some closure to Grandpa's death but the pain was still all too real, too strong. Some moments were easier than others but sometimes, for no explainable reason, memories hit her with full-force and she was overwhelmed with emotion. She hadn't cried since that night on the beach – she was emotionally drained after crying in the bathroom and on the beach – but she had a feeling that the tears would reappear as soon as she discovered what was inside the box. She wasn't sure she wanted to open it when she was alone; she wanted her dad to be there with her.

Making her decision, she picked up the box and headed back upstairs, returning the box to its' spot on the desk in her room. Needing something – some sort of comfort – she walked into her dad's room and, opening one of his dresser drawers, she grabbed a blue Naval Academy t-shirt and, after stripping her own shirt, slipped it over her head. Then, she decided to complete the ensemble, taking a pair of his sweatpants out of the bottom drawer. Pulling the drawstring as tight as it would go, she rolled the pant legs up so she wouldn't trip, tossed her clothes into his hamper and then looked at the pictures on his dresser before heading back downstairs. She prepared herself a plate of food, grabbed a bottle of water and settled onto a bar stool at the counter. Picking up the phone, she dialed the Boyers' number in Beijing and then, when they did not answer, she dialed the Sullivan's, speaking to Sam for a few minutes before Josh came on the line.

When Steve arrived home two hours later, he discovered his daughter, dressed in his clothes, fast asleep in his bed, with the TV airing some comedy show. Careful to not disturb her, he moved quietly through the room, flipping off the TV and grabbing a pair of shorts out of the drawer before flipping off the bedside lamp. Covering her with the sheet, he kissed her softly on the head and exited the room. He'd spend the night either sleeping on her bed or on the couch, wherever he was when his body decided to crash, _if_ his body decided to crash. He really couldn't afford another night of restlessness. Tomorrow, he and his team would use the information he and Joe had just acquired from Commander Gutches – a news article about a Mexican drug cartel – to track down the people responsible for systematically murdering members of Seal Team 9.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: I have a personal deadline to meet so I'm writing chapters a lot quicker than before. My apologies for any errors. Also, I never intended to write such an in depth look at the items in the shoebox Alex discovered a couple of chapters ago in the storage unit but today that part was begging to be written. This is what I ended up with.  
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* * *

><p>The case involving murdered Navy Seals had come to a close after successfully thwarting the death of a third member of Seal Team 9. Using the news article Commander Wade Gutches had provided Joe and Steve, Lori had managed to unearth details about a raid that Seal Team 9 had conducted on a drug cartel over a year ago. Unfortunately, a major player in the cartel had managed to escape capture and, since then, that man had worked on re-establishing the cartel, using Hawaii as only one of several locations to grow marijuana. Further information gathered by Lori had identified one man – Hector Ruiz, or "The Chameleon" – as an assassin hired by the cartel to eliminate the members of Seal Team 9 whose identities were made known thanks to a rather skilled hacker. Lori had discovered the address listed under Hector Ruiz's name and, upon entry into the house, the team had discovered a room whose walls were covered with photos of every member of Seal Team 9. In addition, a file folder that contained information on a Seal mission that Steve had participated in and called "Operation Strawberry Field" was found lying on the mattress. With it, a photo of Steve.<p>

Based on information from Commander Gutches, only one member of Seal Team 9 was unaccounted for, a man named Bradley Jacks. Using information taped to the wall of the room, they discovered that Jacks was scheduled to go skydiving. Two hours later, Steve – after performing a mid-air skydiving rescue – had been back on solid ground, with a breathing and alive, yet unconscious, Bradley Jacks. Danny and Chin had killed Hector Ruiz after the man had pulled a gun on them after landing the plane. Later that afternoon, Steve, along with the rest of his team and Joe, had headed to Naval Situation Room Pearl Harbor to watch the raid of the drug cartel compound, whose location had been discovered thanks to the work of Five-0.

While Danny, Chin and Lori had been in awe at the things they were witnessing on the screen - they had even commented they were glad Steve was on their team – he couldn't help but think back to the innumerable missions he had participated in as a Seal. The thrill of the chase; the mystery of the unknown; the adrenaline rush he had always gotten upon entering a building in the darkness of night; all of these things – and more – had come back to him. Being a Seal was at the core of who he was and how he approached, not only Five-0 cases, but life, as well. He had gotten the distinct impression from a conversation with Danny afterwards that, without any words needed, the video had explained Steve's modus operandi, granting the team an understanding of him that they probably would never have received any other way.

Returning to Headquarters, Steve had finally gotten a chance to check the five voicemails on his phone. Three of the voicemails were from three different private schools on the island – the three schools that, in addition to the public high school Steve had attended, he and Alex had named on the final list of possible schools she would attend if he was awarded custody – with each requesting he return their call. They had news regarding both the placement tests Alex had taken on Saturday afternoon and whether or not she had been accepted to attend their school. The fourth voicemail was from Cindy, informing him of her finalized flight itinerary and intents for the following week. She would be arriving in Honolulu late Wednesday night. She wanted to spend all day Thursday with their daughter and then take Alex to breakfast on Friday morning before heading to the courthouse in the afternoon for the hearing. The final voicemail was from Mary who was concerned about Alex after not being able to reach her on her cell phone or via email. With a glance at his watch, he decided to call his sister and Cindy later, opting to call each of the schools now, hoping to reach them before their office closed for the day. Closing up the office – he had sent everyone else home twenty minutes ago – he headed to the parking lot, deciding to dial Kamehameha Academy first before contacting Pilialoha Preparatory and Maika'i loa Academy.

* * *

><p>Alex's laughter filled the truck. "Chill, Dad; it's not that exciting."<p>

Steve was so proud of his daughter he couldn't keep the smile off of his face. She had passed her placement exams with flying colors and had been accepted to all three private schools, even being offered scholarships – albeit different amounts – to attend each school . When he had arrived at Kamekona's to pick her up, he had rushed over to her and embraced her, lifting her off her feet in a bear hug, not caring if he embarrassed her in the process. When he told her the good news, she had brushed it off with a mere shrug of her shoulders; her way, he guessed, of telling him she had been confident in her intellectual abilities all along, even in spite of having been under emotional stress the day before she had taken the placement tests. It wasn't that he had ever doubted her abilities; he was just a father who was proud as hell of his daughter. "Would it kill you to let me be a proud Dad for a little longer?"

Alex laughed again. "Okay, okay. Can I call Uncle Danny and tell him?" During their conversation yesterday – the one where he convinced her to not only admit to skipping out on her appointment but to also tell her Dad about her fear of being sent back to live with her mom – Danny had inquired about which schools she had decided to apply to and when they could expect to hear back about the placement tests. It was nice to know that, in addition to her Dad, Uncle Danny – as well as Chin, Kamekona and Kono, maybe even Lori – cared a lot about her; they all were so encouraging and supportive of her.

"Sure," Steve said, handing her his cell phone as he pulled away from Kamekona's. "Then you better call your Mom and let her know."

The phone held to her ear, she said, "Did you tell her we applied to schools? 'Cuz I didn't." She broke into a smile when she heard the voice on the other end of the phone. "Uncle Danny! Guess what?" She laughed and then said, "I got accepted to all three." Glancing over at her father, she grinned, "He's ecstatic! You should see his face; it'd probably scare you with how happy he is." When he swatted her leg, she turned her grin on him.

"Ask him if he wants to bring Grace over tonight," Steve requested. "We can invite everyone over."

"Hold on one sec, Uncle Danny." Covering the phone with her hand, she looked at her dad. "You do realize that I'm still grounded, right?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "Of course I do, but that's the beauty of being the dad – you get to change the rules as you see fit."

"You might not want to change the rules when I tell you what I wanted to tell you yesterday." He lost the smile on his face when she said that, raising his eyebrow in question. "Uncle Danny, I'm gonna have to call you back in a few."

* * *

><p>"Does that mean you're going to stay here?" Grace asked, taking her hands out of the mixing bowl in front of her. "I'm done, Uncle Steve."<p>

"Great," Steve said, giving the girl a smile. He picked up the bowl that contained ground beef and his own "secret blend" of other ingredients. On their way home earlier, Alex had admitted to him that she had skipped out on her appointment yesterday morning and, while a little disappointed that she had not told him of her plans _before_ he had dropped her off, he was pleased that she had talked to him before he found out about it from someone else. They had discussed her reasons for not wanting to go and he had to admit to himself that he hadn't really listened to her when she had complained about the therapist before. He had promised her that he would look into switching to another therapist before her next appointment. Choosing to not punish her for skipping her appointment, he had stuck with his plan to invite the team over for dinner. Danny and Grace showed up half an hour ago to help prepare the potato salad and hamburger patties – he'd be making a turkey burger for Alex – and, per Alex's request, fruit salad. Chin would be bringing desert; Lori another dish; and Kono, despite Alex's best attempt, had declined their invitation. When Grace had asked him what she could do to help, he had assigned her the one task that Alex absolutely refused to do. "Thank you, Grace."

Leading his daughter over to the sink, Danny turned on the faucet and instructed her to scrub her hands, making sure she cleaned under her nails. "So, do you?" Grace asked Alex again, soaping up her hands.

"I don't know yet," Alex told her, continuing to quarter strawberries. Recognizing the tone in his daughter's voice – it was the same tone from earlier when she had told him she was afraid the judge wouldn't let her stay with him – Steve stopped what he was doing and moved to stand behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. She set down the knife and tilted her head back to look up at him. He gave her a reassuring smile. "I want to stay; I just don't know if I'll be able to."

"I hope you get to stay," Grace said, rinsing her hands. "You know why?" When Grace answered her own question, it wasn't what anyone expected, especially her father who had told her on multiple occasions to not repeat certain things he told her. "Because Danno says Uncle Steve acts more human and not like an Army man as much when you're around."

"Navy!" Steve and Alex both said, interrupting Danny as he started to lecture Grace on the importance of keeping certain things he tells her to herself. Steve didn't miss that his daughter's face broke into a wide smile at Grace's comment. Shooting Danny a look, Steve looked at Grace and, emphasizing Danny's nickname, said, "I think what _Danno_ meant to say is that I love Alex more than anything in the world." He kissed the top of his daughter's head. "I missed her a lot when she lived with her mom and it will make me very happy if she gets to stay here with me."

He would have said more but was distracted when Alex stood up and hugged him, saying into his chest, "Love you too, Dad."

* * *

><p>Glancing at the digital clock on the nightstand, Alex sighed loudly and rolled over onto her back. It was three in the morning; an hour since she had first woken up and, despite her best attempts, had not been able to fall back asleep. The last two nights had been the same exact way. Rolling over onto her other side, she looked out the window, as the moonlight shone through the tree branches outside, causing shadows to dance across her face. Her eyes moved to the desk, where, what she believed was the reason for her insomnia, was still resting: Grandpa's old shoebox. The last two nights, when she had woken up in the middle of the night, her eyes had been drawn to the box – she'd even picked it up and held it in her hands – but, for some reason, she just couldn't bring herself to open it. Instead, she had gone to her dad's room to wake him up – as she had promised him she would – and he had joined her downstairs on the couch, with the TV on, until she had either fallen back asleep or until the sun came up and they headed out for their morning run. Now, being awake for the third night in a row, Alex was going to take it as a sign that she needed to find out what was inside the box that her grandfather had left for her.<p>

Throwing the covers back, she got out of bed and picked up the box from the desk. She moved out of her bedroom and down the hall, peeking inside her dad's room before deciding to not wake him – she'd deal with the consequences of that choice later – and tiptoed down the stairs, making sure to avoid the creaky spot near the bottom. She walked over to the coffee table, set the box down, then turned and headed for the first floor bathroom. After voiding her bladder and washing her hands, she headed back to the living room, nearly jumping out of her skin when she heard her dad's tired voice. "What's in it?"

She knew she had barely made any noise coming downstairs. Why did the stupid Navy have to give him ears like a bat? Turning towards the stairs, she could barely make out his silhouette sitting on a step about halfway down the staircase. "I don't know; haven't opened it yet."

"I figured you would have opened it awhile ago." He stood up and met her at the bottom of the stairs. "You didn't plan on waking me, did you?"

"I –" _Now's not the time to fib, Alex. You know what it will mean if you do._ Locking eyes with him, despite the lack of light, she answered honestly. "Probably not but I may have, depending on what's in the box."

He didn't reply right away. He was pleased she had not chosen to lie to him but he was still concerned about her insomnia. By now he knew to select his battles wisely so he decided to not get on her case about the decision to not wake him up. "Okay. Well, if you need me I'll be upstairs." He turned to head back up the stairs but was impeded by her hand on his arm.

"I haven't opened it yet because I didn't want to do it alone." He could see her shrug her shoulders as she explained. "I don't know, I just – I wanted to wake you but you haven't slept much lately because of me and –" Turning around to look at the coffee table, she asked, "Since you're up, can we look through it together?"

"Sure," he told her, stifling a yawn. He sensed this was going to be a long process. "Mind if I make some coffee first?"

* * *

><p>"This is for you," Alex said, holding out a white envelope with the word 'Champ' written on it. When they had sat down on the couch five minutes ago, she had stared at the box for a few minutes before she had expelled a nervous breath and flipped open the lid. When she did, the first thing she saw were three envelopes, rubber-banded together; the word 'Princess' written on the top one. She removed them from the box, undid the rubber band, and, setting her own letter aside, discovered her dad's name – or Grandpa's nickname for him – on the second letter. She heard her dad's breath hitch before he set his coffee mug off to the side and then, with a tentative hand, reached out and took the envelope from her.<p>

She watched as he traced a finger over the printed letters; numerous emotions splaying across his face. She hadn't said anything the other night, at the beach, when she had felt his tears soaking the hair on the top of her head. That was the first time she had ever seen her Dad cry and it had added to the emotions she had felt that night. It had been hard that night, to come to the realization that her Dad – the strongest man she knew; the Super Seal – was not invincible; it had been such a humanizing moment. It was equally hard now to watch as he became misty-eyed as he held onto that envelope. Setting the third envelope – Mary's name was written on it – on the table, Alex, not saying a word, sat back and rested her head against his arm, hoping the mere gesture would give him some solace. They sat there in absolute silence for several minutes while he rested his cheek against the top of her head. Then, he kissed her hair and, clearing his throat, set his letter down on the end table next to the couch.

She sat up straight and smiled at him. Returning her smile, he observed, "Mary got one, too?"

She nodded. "He loved all three of us."

"Yeah," Steve acknowledged, picking up his coffee mug and taking a sip. Nodding his head towards the box, he said, "Let's see what else is in there."

She nodded, giving him an apprehensive smile, before leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. She reached towards the box and pulled out the first item her fingers touched. It was a piece of white notebook paper, folded in fourths, and, opening it, she discovered a letter, written in sloppy, childish handwriting, misspelled words, backwards letters and all. Her hand was shaky as her eyes skimmed over the words: "I luv u. Wil u kum cee us wen Mommy and me moovs. Luv, Prinsess Alexandra".

"I remember mailing this," Steve said, setting his mug down and placing a comforting hand on his daughter's back. Catching Alex's eye as she turned her face towards him, he continued, "I remember you writing this." He smiled and shook his head amusingly at the memory. "You were so stubborn. You refused to dictate your letter to us; you had to write it yourself _and _you wouldn't let us help with the spelling."

Alex returned his smile before returning her attention to the letter. As she folded the paper back up, she gave into the urge to mess with her dad. "So your stubbornness rubbed off on me way back then?"

"I am not stubborn," he declared, holding a finger up like he often did when he was on the giving end of a lecture. "My way is just better."Alex rolled her eyes. His response had been so predictable.

She set the folded letter down and reached inside the box again, this time pulling out a stack of papers folded in half. Unfolding them, she flipped through a series of eight crayon drawings that she remembered having created with her grandfather. They were from various ages, that she knew, although she couldn't pinpoint a specific age for when any of the drawings were made. There was a drawing of a garden with flowers and trees and the sun – which was wearing sunglasses – and a few birds flying in the sky overhead. Another drawing depicted a little girl – Alex – wearing a skirt, holding hands with a blonde haired woman – Cindy – and a tall man in a Navy uniform – Steve – standing in front of what was supposed to be a big aircraft carrier. There were a few drawings of what looked like her and Grandpa doing various things – visiting the Zoo; standing on the beach; playing dress up. As she looked at each picture, she passed it over to her Dad, until he finished looking at the last drawing and set them aside.

The next two items she pulled out were two home-made books with words and illustration, according to the covers, by Alexandra McGarrett. The first one was titled "Me and Grandpa" and had been made for a kindergarten school assignment. Consisting of five double-sided pages, each page represented a different activity that the two liked to do together – ride bikes; swim; go to the beach; go on the ferry boats; visit the Space Needle; go to her dance lessons and recitals; talk on the phone; play with GI Joes and Barbie. The second book was titled "My Daddy is My Hero" and contained fewer pictures but many more words than the first book. Flipping through it, the pages were filled with reasons why her dad was her hero – he fought bad guys; he loved her; he played dress up with her; he had big muscles; he was in the Navy; among other reasons – and, unfortunately, she couldn't remember when she had made it or why her grandfather had it in his possession. She passed it over to her dad and, based on his body language, he had never seen it before. She remained silent as she gave him time to flip through it and when he got misty-eyed all over again all she did was scoot closer to him and hug his arm.

When he finally cleared his throat and set the book down – on the end table, next to his letter – she reached into the box for the fifth time and just about lost it when she felt the cool metal of her grandfather's military dog tags. Beside her, she heard her dad's breath hitch again. She traced her fingers over the engraved letters that spelled her grandfather's name, blood type, social security number, religion, and the letters USN. In that moment, her mind flashed back to the scene four years ago, during her visit to see him, when she found the tags in a drawer in this very room. She had asked him about them – up until that moment she hadn't known he had fought in Vietnam – and had made a pencil rubbing of the tags. That rubbing still hung on the wall in her bedroom in Seattle. She swallowed the lump in her throat and, thinking back to their conversation from a few nights ago, she placed them in her dad's hand, closing his fingers around them. "You should have them."

Steve took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He had not seen his father's military dog tags since before his mother's death. Holding them in his hand brought back a flood of memories, both good and bad. Opening his eyes, he briefly saw the tears in his daughter's eyes before she blinked them away. He could not keep his father's dog tags; they now belonged to Alex. He shook his head and unclenched his fingers. He spread the chain and slipped it over her head, the tags coming to rest directly over her heart. "They're yours, Alex; he wanted you to have them."

Fingering the tags, Alex looked at him and said, "But he was your Dad; you should have them. Or one of them at least."

"Thanks," he said, giving her a smile. "But it's okay. You just hold onto them, okay?"

She thought for a few moments. "But –"

"No, buts," he told her, leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead. "I appreciate your offer but I don't need them." _All I need is you, sweetheart._

"Okay," she finally said, tucking the tags inside her shirt. "Do you wanna stop or…?"

"Whatever you want to do is fine with me," he told her, running a hand through her hair. She was right – her hair really had gotten long this summer. He would have to take her to get a haircut sometime over the next few days.

Alex nodded and reached for the box, choosing to take the last three items out all at once. The first item was a five-by-seven sized photo album. Opening it to the first page, she saw a picture of her grandfather holding a baby in a pink blanket. It must have been taken the day of, or in the days immediately following, her birth. Not quite ready to deal with all the emotions that looking at those photos would invoke, she set that aside, outside the grasp of her father's hands, and looked at the other two items: another photo album and a DVD. The DVD was in a clear plastic case with a note taped to it that said, "Watch with your Dad." The maroon colored cover of the photo album had words embroidered on it. They said:

_I'm gonna watch you shine  
>Gonna watch you grow<br>Gonna paint a sign  
>So you'll always know<br>As long as one and one is two  
>There could never be a father<br>Who loved his daughter more than I love you_

_Paul Simon_

Tears in her eyes, she turned to face her dad, who was now leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, and asked, "Which one do we look at first?"

Wrapping his arm around Alex, he kissed her on the temple. Her question was so hard to answer; he didn't know what either item had in store for them. Glancing at the two items, something about the song lyrics resonated within him. "How about the pictures?"

He felt her nod against his him. He dropped his arm and sat back. He was surprised when, after placing the DVD on the table, Alex curled up next to him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, and placed her head on his chest, handing him the album as she did. Kissing her head again, just because he could, he opened the album. The first picture must have been taken the day of Alex's birth – in those moments before his father announced his presence – because it showed a much younger Steve, holding Alex, wrapped in a pink blanket, against his chest. He recognized the look on his face as one of pure love; that little girl had captured his heart that day. He watched as Alex reached out a hand and traced their outlines on the picture before turning the page, which revealed a photo of their young family in the hospital bed. Cindy was nursing Alex and both her and Steve's eyes showed their immense love, not only for their daughter, but also for each other. It pained him to remember the love he and Cindy had once shared – the dreams they had for the future – and how all of that had gone down the toilet only four years after this picture was taken.

"What's gonna happen?" Alex's voice brought him back to the present.

Looking down at her, he asked, "What do you mean?"

Her attention still on the picture of the three of them, she said, "If Mom gets to keep custody of me. What's gonna happen to us?"

Closing the album and setting it on the table, he removed his arm from behind her and sat up, situating himself so that they were looking at each other. "I'm not sure I understand what you're asking."

Alex shrugged, before giving into a frustrated sigh. "I don't know." A struggled look appeared on her face. "Are we going to go back to how we were before?"

"Before?" He asked her, tucking her hair behind her ear. Yes, she definitely did need a haircut. "You mean before this summer? Like we've been for the last couple of years?"

"Yes," she answered in a frustrated tone. "Are we going to go back to talking twice or three times a week? Are we going to not see each other very often? Are we –"

"No." His answer was firm and unequivocal. "If, for some reason, the judge decides that living with your Mom is best for you, then I am going to do everything I can to move closer to you."

Her eyes went wide with surprise. "What?" His comment didn't make any sense. He was in the Reserves, based out of Pearl Harbor; he had Five-0 to run and Wo Fat to hunt down; he had his house and Uncle Danny and Catherine and _everybody _here; his whole life was here. "But what about the Navy and Five-0 and Wo Fat and –"

He interrupted her again. "None of that matters if you're not here with me."

"But how—"

"I will request a transfer to Everett – it's only half an hour from Seattle – to be based out of for my reserve duty. I will give up Five-0 and apply to Seattle PD. And, as for Wo Fat, I'll figure that out later."

"But, Dad," Alex said, still in disbelief at what she was hearing. "You shouldn't have to give up your life – give up your friends, your home, your girlfriend, your job – for me."

Cupping her chin with his hand, he locked eyes with her and said, "You are my life, Alex. _You_ are my whole life."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I created the names of the schools Alex applied to: Pilialoha is the Hawaiian word for "friendship" and Maika'i loa "excellence". Stupid names for schools? Perhaps.**

**The lyrics engraved on the photo album come from Paul Simon's song "Father and Daughter".**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: First, thank you for the AMAZING reviews I received after posting the last chapter. Your feedback gives me the motivation to keep writing. Secondly, this chapter is just a small teaser, leading up to a big and 'explosive' next chapter. Originally, this chapter was supposed to be combined with the next one, but it just got too long and too heavy to leave as one. **

**Hope you enjoy this chapter and I hope to post the next one soon. Thanks again!**

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><p>Sitting in his office a week after they had explored the contents of the box, Steve ran a finger over the photo in the picture frame. It was the newest addition to the series of photos of Alex he had introduced to his office only a few weeks ago; he had snapped the photo over the weekend when he had taken her to a luau at the Polynesian Cultural Center. Her face was tanned from all the weeks under the sun; her smile radiated with pure joy and happiness; around her neck a pink and white lei; her hair a little lighter in coloring due to the daily exposure to the sun; she was his beautiful daughter and he couldn't stand the thought that, in a little over 18 hours, he might hear the judge say Cindy would continue to have full custody.<p>

He had tried to stay positive throughout this whole process but at times it was hard, especially when his mind started to imagine all the lies that Cindy might concoct during the hearing. He knew Alex did not want to have to speak to the judge – she had expressed on more than one occasion that she didn't like having to pick one parent over the other – and he felt bad that she would have to do just that. He wished there was another way – he hated that she had to be put in the middle – but the judge had insisted on talking with Alex. He kept reassuring Alex that all she had to do was be honest and that, no matter what happened, he would still love her. He wouldn't blame her if the judge ruled in favor of Cindy. And if, God forbid, that were to happen, he would still do as he told her – move to Washington State.

He checked his watch. Cindy should be dropping Alex off any minute now. He really hoped that, since he had not heard from Alex all day, the two had had a good day together. Setting the picture frame back down on his desk, he stood up and moved to the pictures of her that were hanging on the wall. Standing there, he reflected back on the moments in which those photos were taken; he could remember them so clearly. There was the photo of her at age five with a cast on her arm after falling off the monkey bars – she had climbed _on top_ of them instead of using them as they were intended – at the playground at Naval Station Coronado. There she was at age eight, holding up that first fish she had caught during that trip to the Olympic National Forest with his dad. Another picture showed her at a dance recital at age six – she had played a Sugar Plum Fairy in The Nutcracker. She had then quit dancing just after she turned nine. Then there was the picture of her at the International Rose Test Garden in Portland that he had snapped during his surprise visit two years ago – the last time he had seen her before this summer. The memories made him smile.

Then his mind drifted to the last ten weeks. He and Alex had been through so much in that short amount of time; it had gone by way too fast. Their relationship had been a roller coaster – great some days then suddenly they would plummet to rock bottom – but ever since that night at the beach, when they had talked about his dad, they had gotten along great, better than ever before. She had started talking to him more and had even roused him from sleep on three different nights – as promised – when her insomnia had kept her from sleeping. She had smiled a lot more since then and she had told him that, for the first time in her life, she felt like she had a real family. Chin, Kono, Catherine, Lori, Kamekona, Danny, Grace; the list of people who she considered family – and who considered her as a member of their family – had made him feel grateful for his friends and team members. They really did treat his daughter like family and it made him feel better that Alex had a huge support system behind her; in the event that he couldn't be there for her, his friends would be, of that he was certain.

Nine nights ago during their impromptu celebratory barbecue, he had spent several minutes bragging about Alex's excellent test scores and acceptance into the three schools before Alex politely asked him to stop embarrassing her. Then, they had all spent the night laughing and playing football – Alex still hadn't mastered how to throw the perfect spiral – in the backyard until they finally called it a night after Grace had fallen asleep in a chair on the lanai. The next morning Alex had accompanied him to the office where they had mutually come to a decision – after much discussion about Alex's interests and academic goals, his hopes for her as her parent, and Alex's concern with tuition – about school. That day he had driven to Maika'i loa Academy and hand delivered a check which was serving as a placeholder for Alex until the judge's ruling was handed down.

Two nights after the barbecue was the night they had opened the shoebox and now, a week later, Steve didn't know if Alex had yet to open the letter his dad had left for her. Reading the words he had written to her should be a private matter between her and her grandfather; he – or anyone for that matter – did not need to know. Just like no one needed to know what his father had written to him – not that he had even managed to read the entire letter yet. He had opened it the following day, had read the words "Champ, I love you and I'm sorry", and had to return the papers to the envelope. He had tried on numerous occasions since then to read the letter but, as of yet, had not been able to get past those seven little words.

That night, Alex had, after going through every item of the box, asked him if her Grandpa had known he was going to be killed. The contents of the box could possibly suggest that he had but Steve did not have an answer for her. In all likelihood, his father – getting older and more tired every year – knew how hard his death, in whatever manner it would occur, would be on his beloved Granddaughter and had wanted to help alleviate some of her pain. Leaving her the things he had – especially the handwritten letter – would help Alex by giving her something tangible to remember him by. People – he – could say whatever they wanted about John McGarrett but it was undeniable that he had loved Alex with all of his heart and, even in death, was concerned about her well-being. He loved and respected his dad for that but what he was most grateful for was that his dad had provided a means for father and daughter – he and Alex – to get even closer. Through the photo album – which they had both looked through numerous times – and the DVD – which they had yet to watch – he was able to share memories with his daughter; she was able to see tangible evidence that he had always loved her.

Since that night, they had gone for an hour long run together every morning and he had made it a point to eat dinner together every night – even if that meant eating in the car or at the office. When he wasn't working, they spent time together outside of the house: relaxing at Ala Moana Park; exploring Chinatown; going fishing again; revisiting the petroglyphs; accompanying Danny and Grace on a trip to the zoo; going snorkeling. She had made some progress on throwing the football – she had the arm strength but couldn't seem to master the correct arm movement; she really was more of a baseball player – and they had spent one whole night with Alex trying to teach him French and Italian phrases. At least he could now say "I love you" in both languages even if he could never tell what his daughter talked about on the phone with Brian and some other kid – _another_ boy – named Alessandro.

"Hi, Daddy."

Alex's voice broke him out of his reverie. Turning around, his daughter hugged him and he kissed her on the head. "Hey, Sweetheart." Looking up, he saw Cindy who, for once, didn't have an angry expression on her face. "Hi, Cindy." Alex stepped halfway out of his embrace, turning to face her Mom but staying under his arm.

"Hi, Steve," she returned, giving him a smile. "How are you?"

Steve swallowed hard. _Weird; she's being…friendly. _He wasn't sure that could be considered a good thing. "I'm good, thanks. You?" He gestured for her to have a seat, which she did. He claimed his desk chair and Alex took the other chair, next to her mother.

"I'm good," Cindy replied, setting her purse on the desk in front of her. "_We're_ good. We had a good day, didn't we, Alexandra?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Alex replied, giving into a big smile. "We did."

Returning his daughter's smile, he asked, "What'd you do?"

Catching and holding her Mom's gaze, Alex said excitedly, "We went shopping." Looking back at her Dad, she explained, "At Luxury Row."

"I see," Steve said, leaning back in his chair as he searched Cindy's face for some sort of hint that his hunch was right. Or wrong. At this point, he'd take either if it meant being able to read her again. He just really hoped that Cindy wasn't bribing their daughter with over-priced designer items in order to win some favor in court tomorrow.

"Mom bought me some new earrings," Alex informed him, stealing his attention away from her mom. She wasn't quite sure what was going on between her parents – Mom was playing nice and Dad hadn't stared that long at Mom in a very long time – but it was weird. And very uncomfortable. "Wanna see?"

Forcing himself to tear his eyes away from Cindy, he turned his attention to their daughter. Giving her a smile, he answered, "I'd love to." He forced his eyes to follow Alex as she moved towards the door of his office and picked up a small bag from the top of a filing cabinet. She must have placed the bag there – it was labeled with the name 'Bottega Veneta' – while he was still looking at the pictures on the wall earlier. She moved towards him, stopping right beside him and then, placing the bag on his desk, she removed a small jewelry box. Opening it, she turned to show him. Inside the box were two violet colored earrings – what Alex would later describe as "drop earrings" – and he could imagine how beautiful Alex would look when she had them on. He could even envision the exact shirt of hers that she would wear to match. Still, looking at them, he knew for a fact that they cost a pretty penny and that didn't sit right with him for many reasons. His gut was telling him that Cindy had some ulterior motive behind the purchase. "Aren't they pretty?"

Looking up at his daughter, he smiled. "Beautiful. Just like you."

Alex returned her dad's smile. Then, glancing back and forth at her parents who, for some odd reason, were staring at each other again, she excused herself, using the false reason of needing to use the bathroom.

"I know what you're thinking," Cindy said to Steve as soon as the office door closed shut behind their daughter.

"You think so?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Yes, I do," she answered, her tone confident. "You think I'm trying to buy my way onto her good side."

"Bottega Veneta, Cindy?" He kept his tone calm and respectful. He would force himself to remain cordial, even if it killed him. "She's fourteen."

"I know how old she is, Steven." Her tone was biting, but not as rough as it normally would be. "And if I want to spend $460 on a pair of earrings for my daughter…" she trailed off when she heard his breath catch momentarily. Maybe she shouldn't have admitted to the price of the violet oxidized silver zircon earrings. With an attempt to get on _his _good side, she changed her train of thought. "I thought they would look really nice with her new haircut and all."

"Yeah," he murmured. He was sure they would look great with Alex's new hair style – Alex would look beautiful in anything – but that was beside the point. The fact that she had just spent more than what he made in two full days of work on _jewelry _for their_ teenage daughter _just proved – to him, at least – that Cindy had something up her sleeve. She was plotting something, of that there was no doubt in his mind.

Picking up their daughter this morning from 5-0 Headquarters, Cindy had been surprised to see Alex with a new haircut. Normally the girl preferred to have her hair longer, to a point just below the bottom of her shoulder blades, but now it rested just above her shoulders. Alex's hair hadn't been that short since she was five. She wasn't sure why her daughter had made the change but it certainly was a good look for her; Alex was beautiful. Alex had told her that, two days ago, Steve had taken her to get a haircut _and _a manicure/pedicure at a local salon. The women must have just _loved_ that a man like Steve – a man who _looked_ as good as Steve did – had, not only taken his daughter to the salon, but also had waited for hours – the only man in the room – while she got her nails and hair done. "How many women gave you their phone numbers?"

Her voice had a teasing quality to it – something he was not used to hearing from her. While waiting at the salon for Alex, he had been more than aware of the fact that several of the women – both those waiting in chairs _and_ those being pampered – were undressing him with their eyes. It was actually something he had grown used to dealing with over the years. He had even, out of the corner of his eye, caught one very not-so-subtle woman moving her eyes up his bare legs – he had been wearing shorts – over his mid-section and up his arms, licking her lips when she spotted the tattoos peeking out from the bottom edge of his shirt sleeves. It had made him uncomfortable, not only because he was committed to Catherine – although they had still not talked about his wanting to start referring to her as his girlfriend – but he had been in _public_ with his _daughter_ for Pete's sake. Cindy was teasing him – what the hell for? – but he was not going to play along. It was none of her business – it had stopped being her business ten years ago – if a woman – or many women for that matter– found him attractive. Sighing, he hoped she got the message.

She did. "Right. None of my business."

"What else did you buy her?" Steve asked, his eyes focused on their daughter through the glass walls of his office. Alex was chatting with Chin and Lori; he could only imagine what they were laughing about.

"Steve."

"Cindy."

"Nothing," she finally answered, giving into a sigh. During their shopping excursion she had found several items of clothing, but one dress in particular, that she had wanted to purchase for her daughter. But, Alex, a McGarrett through and through, had resisted as she usually did when it came to shopping for dressy clothing. Alex's taste in clothing was more like Steve's – simple; casual; solid colors; nothing too flashy – and although they both preferred jeans – or in Steve's case cargo pants – they both certainly cleaned up nicely. Steve still could wear a suit better than most other men and put Alex in a dress or skirt… well… Steve better be prepared to chase away all the male teenagers who, Cindy knew without a doubt, would be trying to make themselves a permanent fixture in Alex's life. Their poor daughter would probably never have a date in high school, thanks to her father. If, that is, tomorrow went in his favor.

A knock on the door made them both look up and Steve motioned that, yes, it was okay for Alex to enter. "Chin's talking to Max about that dude who got killed," Alex told him, nodding her head towards the hall. "Sounds like you might have to go see Max."

With a glance towards Cindy – he really was bothered by her playing nice and wanted to be rid of her – he replied to his daughter, only fudging the truth a little. "Max owes me a favor – want to go see some cool stuff?" He knew Alex, who had loved the dissection part of her Biology class last school year, would get a kick out of some of the stuff in the coroner's office– specimens in jars; viewing blood smears on the microscope; computer renditions of crime scenes – all things that some AP Biology students from the local high schools got to see during a tour of the facility. He wasn't even sure he would be able to bring Alex inside the office with him, but he was hoping his status as head of Five-0 would grant him some leverage. Plus, he didn't really trust Cindy right now; he did not want Alex to spend any more time with her today.

"Steve –" Cindy started to say before being interrupted by her daughter.

"Really?" Alex said, nearly squealing with excitement as she joined her dad at his desk. "Will he really show me all the equipment and stuff? Does he have any specimens to look at? Can he show-"

"Maybe," he told her, not wanting to promise her something he couldn't guarantee. "We'll go and ask. Okay?"


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Before I even finished the first chapter of this story I knew exactly how the custody hearing would turn out. (tessab – were you inside my head when you made your suggestion about the hearing?) Even though I knew how the hearing would turn out, I had no idea how the conversation afterwards would take place but, for some reason, I woke up at 4 am one morning last week with the words just flowing.**

**With that said, I must warn you that this chapter contains a reference to abortion. I am, in no way, endorsing pro-life or pro-choice sentiments – this is just how the conversation played out in my head.  
>wcfan: Hope this answers some of your questions about Cindy.<br>**

**As always, thanks for reading and following this story. Thanks for the reviews.**

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><p>"Can you all promise me something?" Alex looked at the people sitting and standing near her in the hallway outside of the judge's office. Her parents were down in the room reserved for Family Court – located at the completely opposite end of the very long hallway – speaking with the judge. Soon she would be called into the office to speak privately with the judge. Then, after that, she would be returning to the hallway to wait; her dad did not want her in the courtroom while the hearing was taking place. Waiting with her was Uncle Danny and Kono – who were sitting on either side of her on the bench – and Chin and Lori, both of who were leaning against the opposite wall, facing her. She loved these people – her and Dad's ohana – and was so grateful that they had all come to lend their support to her when they all could have been elsewhere, enjoying their day off of work before the big get-together at the beach later.<p>

"Depends what it is," Chin said, sharing a look with his three co-workers. Alex had been quiet – too quiet for their liking – ever since her mother had dropped her at Headquarters two hours ago after they had breakfast together. Upon entering their workplace she had muttered a quiet greeting and then headed straight to Steve's office. Ignoring the fact that he was on a phone call, she had hugged him and then, as if she were a little girl again, had claimed one of his legs, sitting down sideways and resting her head on his shoulder. A weird expression had crossed Steve's face as he finished his phone conversation and then, hanging up, he had said something to his daughter, who, without opening her mouth, had just buried her face in his shirt. Whether it was out of fear or sadness or anger, neither he nor Danny had been sure. She had barely talked since then.

"Okay," Alex said, nodding as her sandal-clad foot tapped nervously on the marble floor. Glancing at each of her dad's teammates – yes, she still considered Kono Five-0 even if Internal Affairs had pulled her badge – she said, "He won't be okay. Not if the judge sends me back to Seattle." Brushing a nervous hand through her hair, she continued, "I know he said he'll move to Washington." At this, the team shared a look – it was news to them that Steve was considering a move out of state. "But it will take awhile for his transfer to go through and I – he will pretend that he's okay but…" Her tearful eyes met Danny's. "Just please don't let him do something stupid like get himself blown up or killed. I need him to be okay. I –"

"Hey, Alex," Kono said, resting her hand on top of Alex's shaky one. "We all take care of each other; it's what we do." Even if her badge had been revoked and she was no longer a cop.

"Yeah," Chin piped up, stepping forward and squatting in front of the teenager they had all come to know and love this summer. "He'll be okay; we'll make sure of that."

"And if he gets to be too much trouble," Danny added, placing a comforting hand on Alex's shoulder. "I'll tell him I have your permission to –"

He was interrupted by the sound of a door being forcefully pushed open down the hall. Everyone's head turned to look and they saw Cindy, rushing out of the courtroom and down the hall, headed for the front of the courthouse. Before they could barely grasp what was going on, Alex was up, pushing past Chin, nearly knocking him over in the process, and headed down the hall, her dress sandals slipping on the marble as she rushed towards her mother, screaming for her to stop. "Mom!" Slipping again, she took a hard fall, her knees roughly hitting the marble floor, but then, oblivious to the pain, she was back up, chasing after her mother, who by now was long gone. Approaching the open door of the courtroom, she slammed into the very hard chest of her father, who had just stepped out of the room after hearing his daughter's plaintive shout for her mother. "Mom!" She was fighting him, struggling to get out of his embrace, her hands reaching futilely for a womanwho hadn't even bothered to turn around and acknowledge her own daughter.

Steve tightened his hold on his daughter, his heart aching at her confusion and pain. The last time she had done this – the last time she had tried to fight free of a loving embrace just like this one – it had been _his_ name she was shouting, in the middle of the boarding area in the Baltimore Airport, pleading with him to move to Seattle with them. Now he just stood there, in a manner similar to that of ten years ago, looking down the hallway at the confused and concerned faces of his friends, grinding his teeth in a mix of emotions, wondering how the hell he was supposed to explain to his daughter what had just happened. He barely understood it himself: Cindy had just told the judge she was no longer fighting Steve's custody petition. She basically just handed him their daughter – no explanation, no parting words, nothing. Just a simple, "He can have her," and then she was gone, racing out of the courtroom. Alex finally stopped fighting him, stopped trying to break free of his embrace, and, when she did, she buried her face in the fabric of his suit jacket, her shoulders wracking in silent sobs.

His friends watched as Steve held his daughter against him, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, before seeing him bend down and whisper in her ear. The usually stoic Steve looked so… lost. Chin recognized part of the expression on Steve's face as one of anger, like what he wanted most right now was to chase after Cindy and drag her back here to face their daughter. Danny suspected what had just taken place – there couldn't be any other explanation for it – and it made _him_ want to chase down Alex's mother and force her to stop being such a damn coward and to just be a damn mother to her child. Steve's expression was also one of confusion, as if he couldn't quite wrap his mind around whatever had just taken place in the courtroom. He looked hurt – not for himself, but for his daughter – and he looked worried. None of them were Steve – they weren't Alex's mother or father or _anything_ genetically related to her – but they cared about the girl and it pissed them off that, once again, her mother had hurt her.

"Commander McGarrett."

Steve turned his head to the left, taking in the sight of Judge Susan Kaulike taking a step out of her courtroom. "I'm sorry," she said, sending a sympathetic look towards Alex. "There are some things we need to finish talking about."

"Right," Steve said, glancing down the hall at his team who was now making their way towards them. "Right," he repeated, not wanting to tear himself away from his daughter who so desperately needed him. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart," he murmured quietly into Alex's ear. "I have to go talk to Judge Kaulike, okay? I'm sorry."

"Come on, Alex," Danny said as the team reached the two McGarrett's. He placed a hand on Alex's shoulder but the girl just threw her arms around her dad's middle, not wanting to let him out of her sight, just in case _he_ got the idea to leave without saying goodbye, too.

"Give us a minute," Steve said, looking at Judge Kaulike. "Please." The judge nodded in agreement and told Steve she would be down the hall in her chambers when he was ready to talk. As she walked away, Steve shared a look with his team – thank God they were here for Alex. "Come on, Sweetheart," he said, putting his hands behind his back and prying her fingers from the death grip she had on his mid-section. Forcing himself to part from her, he took a big step backward, keeping a tight grasp on her arms in front of him. If he released his hold on her arms, he knew she would wind up clinging to him all over again. Glancing down, he noticed his daughter's bruised and lightly bleeding knees. "You're hurt," he said, forgetting his previous thought and dropping her arms. He squatted in front of her to check the damage as Lori and Kono each wrapped an arm around her, one on either side of her. "What happened?"

When she didn't answer her father's questions, Chin spoke up. "She slipped, chasing after…" he trailed off when he caught Steve's knowing eye.

"She didn't even say goodbye." Alex wiped her cheeks with her hands. "Did she –"

At his daughter's voice, Steve stood up, not caring about the little bit of blood on his fingertips. "We'll talk about it. I promise." He kissed her on the forehead, before pulling her to him again for a brief moment. "Right now I need you to go back to HQ." At the look she gave him, he insisted. "I'm sorry I can't go with you right now but please go and I'll be there soon." Locking eyes with hers, he said, "Ti voglio bene. Je t'aime."

That made her smile. "I love you, too."

* * *

><p>"You shouldn't be here," Steve stated angrily as he glared at Cindy across the threshold of his front door. He and Alex had arrived home an hour ago, after he had returned from the courthouse and they had talked in his office. He hadn't had much to explain to her; the truth wasn't all that complicated. It didn't take long to tell her that her mother had relinquished custody to him, without even putting up a fight like they both – like <em>everyone<em> – had expected her to do. Alex hadn't said much; she only wanted to know why her Mom hadn't told them yesterday that she planned on giving up custody. He had not had an answer of her.

He sensed there was still more to Cindy's sudden change of heart – his gut feeling from yesterday had been accurate that she had been plotting something – but what that something more was he didn't quite know just yet. Cindy should have given him an explanation – should have given their daughter an explanation – instead of just running out like the coward she had become. He was pissed, to say the least, and it had taken everything in him to keep himself from chasing after her and inflicting some kind of bodily harm to the woman. Never in his life had he struck a woman – except for that one time in Islamabad when some bat-shit crazy woman he was _protecting _tried to blow herself and his Seal team up while standing next to him – and he had never imagined that Cindy would be the first woman to rile him enough to make him want to hit her. Now, Alex was upstairs, talking on the phone with Alyssa before they headed out to meet up with their friends for a beachside get-together that had been planned for weeks.

"I came to explain," Cindy said, fully aware that she was unwelcome here. Not that she ever really had been. "And to bring you these." She pulled out a set of folders from under her arm and held them out to him.

Sending her a look that was sure to tell her how upset and angry he was with her, Steve looked at the first folder to see it was Alex's medical record. He placed the two items on the end table near the door and looked at Cindy. "You know we'll be in Seattle in three days; you didn't have to bring them now." Weeks ago he had booked a flight to coincide with Alex's return flight to Seattle. At the time he didn't know if it would be a trip to tell her goodbye or if she would be coming back to Oahu with him. They would be gone for five days – plenty of time to pack up her things and for her to say goodbye to her friends – before returning to Honolulu a week and a half before the school year was scheduled to begin.

"I know. But I –"

"Mom?" Alex's voice came from the upstairs landing, where she was standing, phone in hand, looking down at them with a shocked look on her face. Lifting the phone to her ear, she said, "I'm gonna have to call you back," and then hung up the phone. Moving slowly across the landing, she made it to the stairs and began the descent. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk to your father," Cindy answered, still standing outside.

"To Dad?" Alex asked, stopping in place about halfway down the staircase. "You said he could have me and then you left. You left without saying goodbye."

"Alexandra," Cindy started to say before being cut off by her daughter.

"No." Narrowing her eyes in anger, she took on that typical McGarrett stance: arms crossed, feet spread wide apart. "You left without saying goodbye and now you're here to talk to _Dad_?" Her mother grew more unbelievable by the second. "Forget the fact that _I'm_ the one you stopped fighting for and that _I'm _the one you should be talking to but, instead, you came to talk to Dad?" She moved down the stairs and upon reaching the landing, she said, "This is fuc—"

Steve clamped his hand down on her shoulder, stopping her from saying something that would force him to ground her. "Language."

Okay, so her dad wanted her to use another language to curse; fine by her. Her gaze was intense as she stared at her mother; her blood was boiling with anger. "Andare all'inferno!"

"Outside," Steve instructed, forcing himself to not yell at her about her language. Hell, he didn't even know if what she had just said was a curse word.

"But, Dad," Alex protested, her eyes still narrowed in anger at Cindy.

"No, just – just do as I say." The hurt father in him wanted nothing more than to let his daughter yell at her mother. It was past due for Alex to finally place blame where it was due and not misdirect her anger towards him but reason won out – allowing Alex to have a screaming match with Cindy would only hurt Alex more in the long run. He could not let that happen. "Please," he said. "Go out back and wait for me."

With a huff, Alex said, "Fine." Then sending her mother a final, scathing look, she stomped through the house and out onto the lanai, pulling the sliding glass door shut behind her.

Turning back around to face Cindy – who had not dared to step inside the house – he said, "You have ten minutes. That's it."

* * *

><p>"Would you be able to handle it if something happened to her after –"<p>

He interrupted her. "Of course not." Pointing to Alex through the window, he continued, "That girl is my whole life. My _whole _life revolves around her. Without her, I –" he trailed off, deciding not to continue that train of thought. "The thing is, though, is that we've already almost lost her." Upon entry into the house, Cindy had started telling about him about how much their daughter was just like him. She had told him about how she had caught eleven-year-old Alex reading an insider's account into life as a Seal and how, after Cindy confiscated the book, Alex had gotten some sort of adrenaline burst, scaring the hell out of her mother. The night the book had been confiscated, Cindy had discovered their daughter tying bed sheets together because she wanted to use them to climb off the fifth floor balcony in an attempt to mimic the rappelling off of buildings that had been mentioned in the book. Then, two days later, Cindy had been called to Alex's school to meet with the principal after Alex had been discovered by the P.E. teacher climbing the rock wall in the gym without any kind of safety equipment. After telling him about that – something she should have told him _when _it happened, not three years after the fact – Cindy had admitted that Alex was so much like him it terrified her. And it had only gotten worse as Alex started expressing interest in wanting to do risky things – skydiving; rock climbing; bungee jumping; the list had been endless. Still not quite understanding what it was about him that scared her so much, he had asked her for an explanation.

_Three minutes ago._

"_It's that danger element, Steve, you know that." His propensity for risk-taking behavior, coupled with his seemingly inherent love for danger, was just one of many things – but perhaps the biggest – that had contributed to their break-up. She simply had not been able to handle the thought of spending her life worrying about him and waiting for the military to show up announcing his death. "It's that same reason I wouldn't accept your proposal."_

_Steve just stared at her, thinking back to the night twelve years ago when he had popped the question to her. She had barely given it a thought before flat out turning him down. They had stayed together nearly two years after that but still Cindy had never budged on her views towards marrying him._

"_She takes risks without thinking about the consequences," Cindy said, not allowing herself to get any deeper into the subject of their prior relationship or break-up. "She focuses on helping other people so much that she ends up neglecting herself. She's just like you and I can't deal with it." She shook her head. "You know me: I have a low tolerance for pain; I don't handle death or fear or anything remotely difficult very well; I –" She stopped herself and took a deep breath. "I would never be able to live with myself if something happened to her after I allowed her to do something even mildly dangerous. I want her safe."_

"Nine weeks ago we could have lost her and the only reason we didn't is because of her," Steve said, still not entirely sure where this conversation was going or why they were even having it. "Those things that you hate about me – those things in Alex that terrify you – they are the reason she came back to us; they are what got her out of that jungle."

"That doesn't change the fact that –"

"I can't help you get over your fear, your worry," he said, locking his gaze with hers. "All I know is that, for me, the only thing that would be worse than watching her get hurt is if I were to crush her spirit." He let that statement hang in the air for a few moments; let her to do with the statement what she will. "Which is why when she tells me she wants to do something that might carry some risk of injury, I'm right there beside her, doing what I can to protect her." He also wanted their daughter safe – what decent parent doesn't – but he and Cindy clearly had two different opinions on how to do that.

The silence was deafening. Then, finally, Cindy said, "You know how hard it was for me to lose my dad."

Cindy's father – a cop in San Diego – had been killed in the line of duty by a fifteen-year-old drug dealer, who had not hesitated to put five bullets into Detective Gregory Aberdeen. The death occurred the night of Cindy's high school graduation, leaving Cindy parentless after her mother had passed away years before. She had met Steve two summers before, had started dating, and had still been in a committed relationship even after he had moved to the East Coast the previous fall to attend the Naval Academy. After her father's death, she had claimed her inheritance money that a wealthy grandparent had left for her and Cindy moved to Annapolis, to be close to Steve. "Being so close to him, and then losing him, it nearly killed me."

Leaning forward on the couch, she continued, "Meeting you – falling in love with you – was safe and then you ended up just like him – pushing yourself to the limit; putting yourself in danger every day; getting hurt _all the time_ – and that was just while you were at the Academy; you hadn't even become a Seal yet." Glancing over his shoulder, she took in the sight of their daughter, pacing in the backyard as she talked on her cell phone. "I couldn't let Alex experience that same kind of hurt that I did. Every day – _every damn day_ – I waited to get a phone call from the Navy – or to answer my door to some sailor wearing Dress Blues – to tell me that you got killed. You got injured _all the time_ and eventually you were going to get killed. Alex saw you hurt so many times, _so many times,_ Steve, and it scared the hell out of her. I refused to let her get close to you because, if she did – if she loved you the way I loved my father – it would kill her to lose you. It would have _killed_ her."

Ah, so now they were getting to the crux of their issues; to why Cindy had tried to turn their daughter against him. "So you concoct bullshit lies about me?" He asked her angrily as he paced the room, his arms crossed over his chest. "You do what you can to get her to hate me? And for what? To protect her from something that _you_ feared would happen? To protect her from a part of life that she will have to face at some point? To protect her from something she has already experienced through the death of my dad?"

Cindy didn't answer right away as she considered her words. This was going to be hard and they hadn't even begun to discuss the one important fact she should have admitted to years ago. "What you and I had was special – you understood better than anyone what it was like to lose a parent that you were close to. You understood how hard it was for me to have to bury my dad, how hard it was to return to living life after he was killed. You promised me it would be okay – that _we_ would be okay – and what did you do? You –"

"You knew from the beginning that I wanted to be a Seal," he stated, stopping in place and sending her a pointed look.

Cindy nodded in agreement. That was true; he had always been honest with her about his career aspirations. "I thought that would change. I thought…" She trailed off, choosing to go down another route. "You thrive off of danger. You can't go a single day without throwing yourself in harm's way and you do it without even a second thought about the people who care about you. As Alex got older, you got riskier. How many times – how many damn times – did you get hurt while she was visiting you? How many times did she have to visit you in the hospital? Do you have any idea what that does to a child?"

Steve knew Alex hated seeing him hurt – he hated that she had to see him hurt – but that did not mean that he didn't think about his daughter when he was out there working. When he was a Seal – and now as a cop – he thought about his daughter all the time. Yes, he took risks – Danny could certainly attest to that – but the thought of seeing his daughter again, the thought of hearing her voice, was what had kept him going through all of the covert Seal missions, high intensity Five-0 cases, and injuries. Alex was the beacon that had always led him home. "Of course I do, Cindy, my dad –"

He glared when she interrupted him. "No, Steve, you don't get it." She stood up and approached him. "I know I shouldn't have lied – I know I've done some horrible things – treated you horribly – hated you for no good reason – but I had to protect her from getting hurt."

Steve shook his head. This woman was unbelievable. "Pain – _death_ – isn't easy. Not for you, not for me, not for her, not for a single person on this planet. But that girl," he shook his head, turning around and looking out the window at the teenager. He sighed. "That girl is stronger than you have ever given her credit for. She hurts, she cries, she screams, but she is so strong. She is so incredibly strong. You had no right –"

"I had to protect her from you." That was it; that's all she said. To him, it was the biggest piece of bullshit he had ever heard.

Turning to face her, he got loud. "She's my daughter, Cindy! She's _MY _daughter! You had no right to do what you did! Forget the fact that you hate me for making you worry all the time, forget the fact that I couldn't be the man you needed, but dammit Cindy, she is my child, too, and your actions have done her more harm than good." His body very close to hers, he looked down at her in a way that made most people feel threatened. "_You_ hurt her. With every lie, with every ounce of hatred you directed towards me, _you hurt her_. And now you are hurting her again by making her feel like she's not worth fighting for, that it's not worth it to try to mend your relationship."

Cindy stared up at him for a few moments and then returned to the couch. She sat down. Here is where the truth would come out. _Brace yourself, Steve._ She should have given him fair warning that something like this had been on her mind for over fourteen years."I never planned on being a mother. You know that."

Steve shook his head. _Absolutely unfuckingbelievable. "_When you play with fire long enough – like we did – you're bound to get burned." Dropping his arms to his sides, he turned his head to look back outside. "I never planned on being a father but you know what? I did become one and I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. That girl…" he said, pointing out the window, "_that beautiful girl_ is the best thing I have ever done with my life and how _dare_ you hurt her the way you have." Turning his anger back on Cindy, he continued, "Is that what this is really about? About you wishing she had never been born? About how you believe that innocent girl screwed up the plans you had for your life? Because that's bullshit. We are the ones responsible for her birth." He pointed his finger at her and then turned it on himself. "_We_ are the ones who made her. None of this is her fault."

"You wanted her; I didn't."

The matter-of-fact way in which she said that shocked him. _Is she saying what I think she is?_ It had been awhile since he had lived with her, but he was pretty sure he still understood that tone of voice. He was fairly certain he understood the underlying meaning of her words. "What?" He asked, his surprise written across his face. "An abortion?" He stumbled over the words, getting a little queasy at the thought. "You wanted an abortion?

She confirmed his suspicions. "You knew I didn't want kids."

"But you – you –" This was the most shocking thing he had ever heard, especially coming from her. "You never said anything about wanting to terminate."

"You wanted her, Steve," Cindy repeated. She knew she was breaking his heart with her admittance of never wanting their daughter but it was a conversation that was well over-due. "You wanted her from the moment I told you I was pregnant. You never would have agreed to an abortion."

He was so grateful for the thick panes of glass on the windows. If Alex heard this… How was this happening right now? How had his experience as a parent come to this? How had Cindy turned into this… this… this… he failed to find the proper word to describe her. He got loud again. "Damn right I wouldn't have. She's our child, Cindy!"

"Yes, Steve, we created her and I birthed her but—"

"But what?" Their daughter's existence was the only thing that made sense some days. There shouldn't be any 'buts' not when it came to their daughter.

"She's _your_ daughter, Steve," Cindy stated, looking up at him from her spot on the couch. "I'm just the person who contributed half of her DNA. She's your kid. She's _always_ been_ your_ kid and then you chose the Navy – over her, over us, over our family – and, by then, I was stuck. I loved her but…" She trailed off, knowing he didn't need her to finish that last thought.

"But every day you regret having her?"

Cindy swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked back the tears in her eyes. Believe it or not, this was actually very hard for her. She hated the way she felt about her kid; it wasn't like she hadn't tried to _not_ regret bringing their daughter into this world. "Mothering is hard for me. I don't think I was ever meant to be a mother."

Steve shook his head in disbelief again. "No one ever said parenting is easy." With a pointed look in her direction, he said, "It's the hardest damn job in the world but how can you…" he trailed off as he looked outside at their daughter who was now sitting with her feet in the sand, still talking on her phone. "Look at her, Cindy."

"Dammit!" he said when he saw her doing anything but look at Alex. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her to her feet and forced her to look into the backyard. "Look at her! How can you look at that beautiful, intelligent, compassionate, strong, caring, loving, resilient, funny, creative, and all-around good kid and regret having her? How can you look at her and wish she had never been born? She is the most perfect thing I – _we _ – have ever done in our lives and –"

With a gentle hand on his arm, she said, "When I look at her, all I see is you." She closed her eyes and expelled a tremulous breath before opening her eyes again. "She's yours and I never should have taken her to Seattle. You are a good man, Steve. You are a good father – you always have been – and I'm sorry. She should have been with you – she should have been with you and_ only_ you – from the day we brought her home from the hospital."

* * *

><p>"Before we head out there," Steve said, with a nod towards Ala Moana Beach Park. He turned off the truck and turned to look at his daughter. "How are you doing?" After Cindy had admitted to him that she had never wanted Alex, that she regretted bringing her into this world, and that every single day she wished she didn't have to raise her alone – which of course made no sense to him because all she had to do was tell him about her feelings and he would have worked his ass off to make it possible for Alex to live with <em>him<em> – she had left the house, again without saying goodbye to Alex. After she had exited the house, he had to restrain himself from punching a hole in the wall – his anger level was through the roof – and had joined his daughter in the backyard. The look on Alex's face when she had realized Cindy had left had just about broken his heart. Not knowing what else to do, he had hugged her, leaving his arms around her as she finished her phone call. Then, they had left the house and headed here with Alex not saying a word the entire time.

Waving at Grace through the window, Alex bit her lip as she considered his question. It should have been the easiest question in the world to answer but it wasn't. "I'm okay." Looking at him as she took off her seatbelt, she gave him a small smile. "Right now anyways." She had talked to Alyssa and Mrs. Boyer, both of whom had done an amazing job at comforting her; Brian, who, after a few choice curse words, had managed to get her to laugh; and Josh, who, as the only person who could truly understand what she was feeling, had promised to help her have fun at the get-together that night. "I'm mad at her. I am so mad at her," she admitted, not that her dad didn't already know that. She shrugged. "But I didn't want to have to talk to the judge and she made sure I didn't have to."

"Yeah," he acknowledged, reaching over and giving her hand a squeeze. "If, at anytime tonight, you decide you don't want to be here with everyone then just let me know, okay? We can go home whenever you want."

Alex's face broke into a big smile. "Home." She got up on her knees and, leaning over the center console, wrapped her arms around her dad's neck, hugging him. "My home is with you now." Pulling away she asked, "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," Steve said, glancing out the windshield at Danny, Grace and Kamekona, who were setting chairs up near the picnic tables they had reserved for tonight.

"No, you're not," Alex informed him. "You're mad at her, too." Sitting back down on her bottom, she observed, "I actually think you're madder at her than I am right now." When he didn't reply, she asked him, "You're not going to tell me what you two talked about, are you?"

His eyes back on her, he shook his head. "No. Remember we talked about this before; certain things are not for you to know."

"Okay, dad," Alex replied, looking out the window. "Can we go have fun now?"


	24. Chapter 24

Relaxing in a beach chair surrounded by his friends – Kamekona, Lori, Danny, Kono, Chin, and Jason Sullivan – Steve sipped his Longboard beer and watched his daughter laughing and playing with Grace, Sam, and Josh. When they had climbed out of the truck earlier, Grace had run up to Alex, hugged her, and then asked if they could go look for seashells on the beach. Both girls had headed for the sand, leaving him, Danny, and Kamekona to finish setting up chairs while they waited for everyone else to show up. When the Sullivan's showed up, Josh, with a football in hand, and Sam had shaken each of their hands and then headed towards the beach, where, much to Steve's discomfort, Alex had practically thrown herself into Josh's arms, hugging him. His unease lessened only slightly when he saw the look on Danny's face as Grace hugged Sam with an equal enthusiasm.

The boys had joined the girls in their quest for seashells, with Sam and Grace running ahead, leaving the two teens straggling behind, Josh tossing the football in the air and catching it as they walked. As the kids patrolled the beach – only once moving out of sight of their fathers – the rest of the crew showed up, bringing food and beverages for later; Steve's grill was in the back of the truck and they would be grilling hot dogs, ribs, and chicken later that evening. After dropping a pretty large collection of seashells on the picnic table, the kids had started tossing around the football, passing it around in a circle and, watching them now, Steve slightly regretted that his football lessons with Alex had paid off. She had been complimented on her ability to throw the ball by both Sullivan boys and also – in a moment that made him all too aware of exactly what he had to look forward to in regards to his daughter and boys – by some _much_ older teenage boys who had been walking by.

"So I hear our kids are going to be classmates," Jason said as he claimed the seat next to Steve, Longboard in hand.

"What?" Steve asked, turning his attention away from the kids. In all of their discussions about schools, Alex had not mentioned that piece of information to him. "Josh is going to Maika'i loa? I figured he'd be attending the school on base."

"Yeah," Jason answered, his attention drawn to his youngest son as the boy took a hard fall to the ground after lunging to catch a misplaced throw. When Sam stood back up, unscathed, Jason returned his attention to Steve. "Private school is expensive but well worth it when it comes to your child's education. The curriculum at Maika'i loa is outstanding and I found out years ago that the base schools just don't challenge him enough."

"I understand that," Steve replied, pressing the bottle to his lips and taking a drink. "Alex needs that academic challenge, too. Not to mention, Maika'i loa's foreign language program was a huge selling point." Glancing at his daughter who was now lining up for a foot race on the beach with Josh, he added, "And they have a cross-country team."

"She shouldn't have any trouble making the team," Jason observed, watching as the girl easily sped past his son and continued out of sight.

Steve smiled. _No, she shouldn't. _"Is Josh going to try out for the football team?" He had thrown the football around with Josh on the Fourth of July and had been impressed by the kid's arm. As a former quarterback himself, it had been easy to recognize the talent and passion for the game in the teenager. Josh would make a great addition to any football team.

"Yeah, he –" Jason was interrupted by the shouts of Grace and Sam, who were running towards them.

"Dad!"

"Danno!"

Running past them, Grace headed over to Danny who was talking to Chin and Lori. Sam stopped in front of Jason and said, with excitement in his voice, "We're gonna start a game of football and all the grownups have to play."

* * *

><p>"Okay, we need this touchdown to tie the game," Chin said as his team formed a huddle. After Grace and Sam had come to recruit players for a pickup football game, all of the adults – the only exception being Kamekona – had agreed to play. They had split into two fairly balanced teams with his team consisting of Sam, Alex, Kono and Jason. They were playing against Josh, Grace, Steve, Danny and Lori. While they were playing, Kamekona had taken over the food preparation and was now firing up Steve's grill. "You got this one, Sam?"<p>

The nine-year-old turned his head to glance over his shoulder at his older brother's team. He turned back around, looked at his teammates and then said, "Alex is the fastest; you should throw it long to her."

"You up for that?" Chin asked. Alex had been more than content with serving as a blocker for their teams' five other touchdowns.

Alex glanced over her shoulder at the other team and, seeing her dad, she turned around. "Yep." With a grin, she said, "Let's prove to Dad that you really are the better quarterback." Her comment caused Chin and Kono to laugh. Chin and Steve had teased each other numerous times about who the better quarterback was in high school with Steve's main argument being that he had broken all of Chin's records at Kukui High.

"Don't let your Dad hear you say that," Kono commented, nudging the girl with her shoulder.

The team huddled closer together to finalize their plan and then they lined up on the line of scrimmage. When Sam hiked the ball back to Chin, Alex took off, moving past Josh and then, approaching her dad, she faked a move that drew Steve to the left which allowed her to move past him on the right. Picking up the pace, she headed for their designated end zone and jetted back to the left. Turning her head, she saw Chin's perfectly thrown pass headed towards her. Jumping up only a little, she caught the pass: TOUCHDOWN! The first of her teammates to reach her was Sam who hugged her in celebration and then, after being joined by Kono, Chin and Jason, they performed a short, previously choreographed celebratory dance. Then, purposefully speaking louder than was required, Alex, who was grinning at her dad, said to Chin, "That pass proves you were the best quarterback to play at Kukui High." Her grin grew bigger when she received a look from her dad.

The two teams lined up for the next play with Josh set to receive the hike from Grace. Steve was on the immediate left of Josh while Danny and Lori were both on the right. The ball was snapped and Josh drifted back a few steps with ball in hand as his teammates headed down the field. Sam was blocking Grace, Lori was being blocked by Kono, and Alex and Chin double-teamed Steve. Josh brought his arm back and threw the ball towards Danny who, thanks to being seven inches shorter than Jason, had no chance of catching the slightly off target ball. Instead, Jason intercepted the ball before being tagged down by Lori and Grace. "Sorry, guys," Josh said, softly glaring at his dad. "Totally my fault."

After agreeing that Alex would go long again, Chin's team broke their huddle and headed for the line of scrimmage. The ball hiked, Alex ran forward, sidestepping Grace and then dodging Lori. Thinking she was free to run, she was surprised to feel a pair of arms wrap around her middle from behind. The next thing she knew she was being lifted off her feet. Hearing him laugh in amusement, she protested, "Dad, you're cheating." She started laughing uncontrollably when he started to tickle her on her side. "This…is…not…fair," she continued to protest as she continued to laugh.

Seeing Chin knocked to the ground by both Grace and Chin's own teammate Sam before both kids proceeded to tickle him, Steve knew the play – and the game – was over. He set his daughter back on the ground and then laughed at the pout on her face when she turned to face him. She shook her head at him before giving into a laugh. Turning around at the sound of Grace's laughter, she shook her head again and, amused, said, "See what you started."

Steve grinned at her before wrapping his arm around her shoulder. "That was payback for telling Chin he was the better quarterback."

* * *

><p>"So, uh," Steve said as he and Danny walked barefoot on the beach, each nursing a bottle of Longboard in hand. After the game of football, they had all headed to the picnic table, where he and Kamekona had finished grilling food for everyone. Once everything had been made, they had all loaded up their plates, with the four kids leaving the adults near the table as they claimed a spot in the grass. Apparently he had not been saying enough as they all conversed because Danny had quietly asked him if he was okay. In response, he had asked Danny to join him on a walk after they finished eating. Now, they were walking away from the group, headed towards a spot where they would not be overheard. "When Rachel found out she was pregnant with Grace was she excited? Was she happy?"<p>

Danny gave him a weird look. "Of course she was. We both were."

"Yeah," Steve acknowledged as he ran his free hand through his hair and his eyes focused on the sand beneath his feet.

"Was there a reason you asked me that question?" Danny asked after several minutes of silence. Something was off with Steve. Something more than just what happened during the custody hearing and in the hallway afterwards. Despite the way Steve had smiled and laughed during the football game, he could tell that something was on Steve's mind.

Steve sighed. "Cindy stopped by the house this afternoon – right before we came here."

"Oh," Danny said, not sure what that had to do with Steve's previous question. "To see Alex?"

"No, actually," Steve answered, his tone expressing just how angry he still was with that particular situation. "She barely said ten words to Alex." Steve brushed a hand over the stubble on his face. "She came to talk to me, to explain…everything."

"You mean about why she decided to give up custody?"

"Yeah, but…" he trailed off, giving into another sigh. "It was more than that. She…" he trailed off again as he stopped walking. Turning around, he looked back at where his daughter and friends were gathered. He spotted Alex laughing with Kono and Lori, while they stood apart from everyone else. When he spoke again, his voice had a quality to it that Danny had never heard before. "How would you feel if Rachel told you that she wished your daughter had never born?"

"What?" Danny asked, incredulous. "Cindy told you that?"

Steve's shoulders tensed up and then his voice dropped in volume even though there was no one within hearing range. "She wanted an abortion."

Danny's breath hitched sharply not just at Steve's statement but at Steve's body language. "Steve, I'm –" Turning to glance back at Alex, he asked, "Does Alex know?"

Steve shook his head. "No. I made her go outside when Cindy showed up." _Thank God._ "Cindy wanted an abortion," he repeated. "But she never mentioned it until this afternoon."

"Steve –"

He interrupted Danny. He was not really looking for comfort. He just needed to share the newly acquired news with someone; the Seal in him could deal with this alone but he wasn't sure the Dad in him could. "The only reason she didn't tell me back then is because she loved me and she knew I wanted Alex." Turning to face Danny again, he said, "I was nineteen years old, Danny. I never planned on having kids but as soon as I found out Cindy was pregnant I wanted the baby. I loved Alex from the moment I found about her. I thought Cindy was just as happy and excited as I was but now I find out it was all an act."

"Steve—" Danny's attempt to comment was again cut short.

"Cindy loved me and she knew I wanted Alex. She _loved_ me, Danny and I loved her." He took a long drink of his beer as he decided how much more to tell Danny. He had never talked to anyone about his relationship with Cindy; he'd never told anyone about why they didn't work out. Opening up like this was something he usually only reserved for Catherine but Danny, for obvious reasons, seemed like the better option in this situation. "I even proposed to her."

Seeing the way Danny's eyebrows were raised in surprise, Steve gave into a smile. "Yeah," he said. "I wanted us to be a family – a real family. I wanted to have a wife and daughter to come home to every night. I wanted them to be there when I returned from missions. I wanted us to raise our daughter together."

Steve looked at Danny, grateful that he now had someone else he could be vulnerable in front of. Not that he planned on letting that happen very often. "She turned down my proposal but we stayed together for another two years. Then, one day, she decided that being with a Navy man was too hard. She started to hate me for sticking with my dream of becoming a Seal. She got mad – she got tired of seeing me hurt; got tired of fearing for my life – and she decided that she couldn't let Alex be around me anymore. She didn't want Alex to go through the kind of pain she had experienced when her dad died. So, even though she didn't want to be a mother – even though she _still_ didn't want Alex – she took our daughter clear across the country." Realizing he was rambling, he dropped to the ground, digging his toes in the wet sand, not caring if the tide reached him or not.

Watching his buddy sink to the ground, shoulders slumped in abject misery, Danny resolved himself to sit next to Steve. To hell with the fact that the tide was reaching Steve's legs and would soak his own pants; his friend needed him. "What she did was unfair. She should have told you the truth."

"Yeah," Steve finally agreed. He was surprised that Danny, who was wearing his typical dress pants and hated the beach, had taken a seat next to him. He kept eye contact with Danny as he continued, "Cindy has regretted bringing Alex into this world every day since she was born, yet, instead of telling me she didn't want her, she kept her from me." He shook his head to clear the tears from his eyes. "She never wanted her, Danny; she still doesn't want her. All she had to do ten years ago – hell she could have even told me when Alex was born – was tell me she didn't want to be a mother and I would have raised Alex by myself. It would have been hard, but I would have made it work." He expelled a frustrated breath before repeating himself in a way that told Danny he was looking for some sort of validation. "I would have made it work."

"I know you would have, Steve," Danny said, ignoring the fact that his pant legs were now soaked. "You're a good father."

"It would have made everything so much better," Steve started as if Danny had never spoken at all. "If only she had been honest with me." His eyes focused on the horizon, he continued, "Alex never would have doubted my love for her. Alex never would have been made to feel unloved and unaccepted. She never would have had to feel like my dad was the only person who cared about her. She wouldn't have had to feel all alone the last three years." Meeting Danny's eyes again, he stated, "Alex is the innocent party in all of this. All Cindy has done is hurt her."

"Alex isn't the only who is hurting, Steve." Danny knew his comment hit home when Steve let out a sigh that he had been holding for way too long. Even if he then denied it.

"I'm fine, Danny."

"No, you're not," Danny argued gently. "Cindy's actions – her choices – hurt you just as much as they did your daughter. Up until ten weeks ago, you hadn't seen Alex for two years and I know how much that hurt you." Seeing Steve open his mouth, he held up his hand. He was not finished yet. "What Cindy just admitted to you is hurting you. I know you're the Super Seal and all but you can't tell me the Army trained you to not be affected by something like this," he said, purposefully mixing up the two military branches.

"Navy," Steve corrected. The small smile he gave Danny indicated his thanks. He was quiet for a few minutes as he turned his head to look back at their gathering spot. Kamekona was entertaining Grace and Sam with some sort of card game; Jason, Chin, Alex and Josh were playing with the football; Lori and Kono were in some sort of animated conversation – flirting was the more accurate term – with a couple of male surfers. His eyes lingered on his daughter. Even from this distance he could hear her laugh and it warmed his heart. Despite her earlier sadness and anger, she had been upbeat, energetic, and a barrel of laughs since their gathering started. Still, he feared that as reality continued to set in, Alex's heartache at both her mother's lack of interest in fighting for her and her cruel treatment towards her that morning and afternoon would return.

"Cindy still can come see Alex whenever she wants," Steve finally stated, informing Danny of the custody agreement signed earlier. After Cindy's behavior at the courthouse, Steve easily could have demanded that Cindy get absolutely no rights to their daughter, but he had done what he felt was the right thing. No matter what, Cindy was still Alex's mother and Alex needed her mother in her life. If Cindy would so much as return their daughter's affections, he would not be opposed to allowing Cindy to spend time with Alex. "But do you think Alex will be okay after what happened today?"

"Yes, she will," Danny stated matter-of-factly as he watched Steve carefully. "She's not the one I'm worried about right now, though."

"What are you talking about, Danny?"

"Look," Danny said, locking eyes with Steve. "Alex is like a second daughter to me and I know what's going through my mind after what you just told me. The thoughts going through your head have to be a hundred times worse."

"I'm fine, Danny," Steve stated for the second time.

"Right," Danny said, his tone clear with how much he knew Steve was lying. "So you don't have plans to, oh I don't know, put Cindy inside a shark tank in Puget Sound, maybe?"

Steve gave into a small amused smile at the memory of their case from all those months ago. No matter how much he tried to deny it, Danny knew him too well. "Well, similar thoughts have crossed my mind," Steve admitted with a smirk. "But I was thinking more along the lines of hanging her off the roof of the building where she works – 76 stories up."

Deciding to just roll with it, Danny suggested, "So maybe you should give me access to your bank account. You know, that way when your daughter calls to tell me I have to fly to Seattle to bail you out of jail –"

"I won't hurt her, Danny," Steve said needlessly, his tone serious again. "I just don't understand how you can spend 14 years raising a kid – 14 years investing in her future – and still regret having her." Looking at Danny, he continued, "When I look at Alex, I cannot imagine life without her."

* * *

><p>"I miss the ferry boats and the fish market and the Science Center," Sam told Alex as they sat on the sand, legs stretched out in front of them, toes occasionally being touched by the incoming tide, watching some sail boats in the distance. After Grace had recruited Josh to go on another hunt for seashells, Sam had started talking to Alex about a variety of topics: football and baseball; how he wanted to play mini-golf with her, his brother, and Grace again; the upcoming school year; and now, Seattle. His voice took on a sad tone. "I miss all of Seattle actually." Looking at Alex, he then said, "Josh doesn't miss it."<p>

"Why do you say that?" Alex asked, knowing full well that Josh did, in fact, miss the city where they had lived prior to moving to Oahu.

Sam shrugged. "He doesn't miss anyplace we used to live."

"You've moved a lot," Alex noted, only knowing a few of the many places Josh had lived.

"Yep, we have," Sam confirmed, bringing his legs up to sit Indian style as he used his hands to play in the damp sand. "I'm nine and we've lived four places before moving here."

"Yeah," Alex replied, leaning back on her hands. "That's a lot of places to live." She nudged Sam with her shoulder and then, when he looked at her again, she said, "I think Josh does miss Seattle but he's older so he's probably just more used to moving than you are."

"Yeah, maybe, I guess." Sam diverted his eyes to the ground as he continued to play, building several small mounds of wet sand. "Do you think you will miss it now that you will be living here?"

Alex nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat before speaking. "I'm going to miss it a lot. I lived there for a long time."

"How long?"

"Longer than you've been alive," she replied, wistfully looking at the horizon.

Sam nodded. That _was_ a very long time to live in one place. The longest they had ever lived anywhere was three years and that was in Seattle. It's why he missed it more than North Carolina or Texas or Italy. Not that he really remembered Texas or North Carolina all that much. "What are you going to miss about it?"

Alex thought for a few moments. "My friends; the smell of freshly brewed coffee on every corner." Even though she didn't drink coffee – she had never even sampled it - she had spent countless rainy mornings – or, for that matter, afternoons – sitting inside a cozy coffee shop, either alone or with friends, striking up friendships with other locals, all amid the smell of coffee brewing and pastries being baked. It made her have warm thoughts of the city she had called home for ten years and it was why, every morning this summer, she made it a point to make a pot of coffee for her dad. She savored those moments when he was either still asleep or in the shower, when she could just close her eyes, inhale the scent of the ground coffee beans, and, in her mind, be transported back to Seattle.

"The ferry boats," she continued, thinking back to the innumerable trips she had taken – usually alone – across the Sound to Bainbridge Island or to Bremerton. Most times she boarded the boats just for the ride across the water; rarely did she ever debark in either of the two locales. Thinking about it now, she could clearly bring to mind a vision of the Seattle skyline, illuminated against the night sky. Realizing she was getting too sentimental, she forced that vision out of her head. "The fish market." The Pike Place Fish Market was another Seattle locale that she visited regularly – usually once a week – even if she had no need to purchase fish. She just loved the atmosphere of the place: the wonderful blend of tourists and local residents; the mix of Pacific Northwest dialect and numerous foreign languages; watching the fishmongers throw fish. Now completely nostalgic, she rushed through the rest of her list. "The museums; the Sound; Mariner games; Alki Beach." _Everything, including my Mom._

"Yeah," Sam said, smiling at her. "Seattle is cool."

"Yeah, it is," she replied, returning his smile. They both turned around at the sound of Grace's voice.

"Sam, wanna go see if we can make S'mores now?" Grace said, reaching them with Josh only a few steps behind her.

"Sure!" Sam said excitedly as he stood up. "Are you guys coming, too?" His question was directed towards his brother.

With a glance at Alex, Josh shook his head. "How about you go check and then let us know when it's time?"

"Okay." With that, Sam and Grace were off, speeding towards the group of adults.

"How are you doin'?" Josh asked, plopping down in the spot vacated by his brother.

"Good," Alex answered, sitting up straight.

"You sure? 'Cuz you seem a little down."

Alex gave him a small smile. "Sam just asked me what I will miss about Seattle, that's all."

"Ah," he said, understandingly. "So you're nostalgic?"

"A little, yeah," she said, pulling her knees to her chest and hugging them. "But that's not why you asked that question."

"Nope," he confirmed, picking up tiny pieces of broken seashells and throwing them one-by-one into the ocean as they sat in silence for several minutes.

"I'm okay," she finally answered. "I mean, I'm mad at my Mom but probably not for the reason everyone assumes I am."

Throwing the last shell, he repositioned his body to face her. "Well, what do you think people assume?"

Alex shrugged. "I guess they think I'm mad at my mom for handing custody over to my dad. That I'm mad that she stopped fighting for custody." Turning her body so they were face-to-face, she said, "But that's not why I'm mad at her. I mean, it's not like I'm never gonna see her again. By giving up custody she did what I wanted – she did what would make me happiest."

"Okay," Josh said, thinking back to how upset she had been on the phone earlier. "Then why are you mad at her?"

"Because she was nice to me yesterday and this morning. She was nicer than she has been for a long time and I…" she shook her head, letting the guilt wash over her again. "I guess part of me feels guilty for not realizing that she had an ulterior motive for being nice to me. But the other part of me is mad at her for using me that way, for leading me to believe that things were going to be different between us." Locking eyes with him, she continued, "I'm mad because she left, not just once but _twice_, without saying goodbye. And I know I will see her in a couple of days but…"

"It still hurts," he finished for her.

"Yeah," she agreed. She studied his face – his eyes were now directed downwards – for several moments and then, realizing her mistake, she apologized. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have unloaded all of that on you."

"I asked, didn't I?" he replied, running his fingers through the sand.

"Yeah, you did," she answered, shivering slightly from the unexpected cool breeze. "But what your Mom did is a thousand times worse and now, because of me, you're thinking about it all over again."

He shook his head to clear it and looked at her again. "Hurt is hurt, Alex. Just because my Mom did something worse doesn't mean your pain matters any less." With a sigh, he continued, "Besides I think about her every day anyways. Even though my Mom sucks, I can't help but think about her." He reached out a hesitant hand to touch hers and, when she didn't withdraw her hand, he rested his on top of hers. "I'm sorry your Mom kinda sucks, too."

"Thanks," she said, blinking the guilt-ridden tears away. Steering her eyes away from his, she glanced up towards the park, her eyes resting momentarily on her dad. "I think my dad is having a harder time with it than I am."

Josh gave into a laugh. "You're probably right. I think my dad still has a harder time dealing with what my mom did than me or Sam does." He shrugged. "I guess I understand it, though. What she did changed everything for us – she hurt all three of us – and I guess as the dad its worse because he not only has to deal with his pain but ours as well."

"You have a great Dad, Josh."

"I know," he assured her. "So do you. I guess –"

He was interrupted by Sam, who was running towards them, calling both of their names. Reaching them, he said, "We're gonna start making S'mores and I want a triple-decker one."

"Have dad make you one," Josh instructed, perfectly content to spend the rest of the night on the beach with Alex. There was so much more to talk about – not all of it centered on their lousy mothers – and he really could care less about making a specialized version of the snack for his brother.

"You make them the best," Sam pointed out, dropping to his knees next to his brother. "Besides, Dad said it's soon going to be too dark for you to be by the water."

Josh rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said finally. "Go back up there and we'll be right behind you." With that, Sam was up and running back towards his father. Josh stood up and then offered his hand to Alex, helping her up from her spot. As she started to walk away, he reached out his hand and touched hers again. "Um," he started nervously, "before we go up there, I have something for you." He reached into his front pocket and then, removing his hand, placed his hand over hers and dropped the item into it. "I didn't get it wrapped but I wanted to get you something. You know, in case this was goodbye."

Looking into her hand, Alex saw a beaded bracelet, similar to ones she had seen displayed at the bead store in the mall. "You made this for me?"

He felt his cheeks warming with a blush. "Yeah." He shrugged his shoulders. "I remembered you looking at them at the mall that one day so I figured I'd –"

"The beads are really pretty," she told him, taking in the sight of the different shades of blue, green, purple, red, and orange.

He smiled and felt a little less embarrassed now. "Well, the blue ones remind me of your eyes," he told her, reaching out to tie the bracelet around her left wrist. "I know purple is one of your favorite colors and the greens, reds, and oranges remind me of Hawaii." When the bracelet was secured, he took a step back. "It's dorky, I know."

"No, it's not," she argued before throwing her arms around him in a hug. "I love it. Thank you!"

* * *

><p>"Hi, Daddy," Alex greeted, wrapping her arms around him. He was standing near Chin behind several lawn chairs where Kono, Lori, and Kamekona were seated. She and Josh had just rejoined the group after he had given her the bracelet. Josh had joined his father, Sam, Grace and Danny near the fire pit after Sam had called his name, practically demanding that Josh make him the so-called "triple-decker S'more" while she headed towards her Dad, feeling the need to make him know how much she appreciated him and everything he had done for her.<p>

"Hi, Sweetheart," Steve greeted in return, placing a soft kiss to her head as he hugged her back. "You okay?"

Still in his embrace, she looked up at him and smiled. "Yes. Are you?"

He nodded. "Yeah, but I'd be even better if you stopped hugging boys." Even from this distance and despite the setting sun, he had been able to watch as his daughter had, once again, thrown her arms around the oldest Sullivan boy and, in his opinion, had hugged him for far too long. His comment earned a laugh from Chin while Alex just rolled her eyes.

"It's just Josh, Dad," she informed him. "As in _a_ boy. You know, singular."

"Still," Steve argued, "could you please not cause me any more gray hairs until, say, you're thirty?"

Alex shook her head and started to laugh until she saw the look on Chin's face. Great, so not only did she have to worry about her Dad's insane concern about her and boys, now, based on the look on his face, she also had to worry about Chin. She wasn't going to give in that easy, though. "Wishful thinking, Dad," she said, giving him her sweetest smile that was anything but.

Steve groaned at her comment before sharing a look with both Chin and Kamekona, who had turned slightly in his seat to look at them during their conversation. His daughter was going to drive him crazy with all of the attention she received from teenage boys, but he was not going to make it easy for her. He had a whole arsenal of weapons at his disposal and he wasn't just talking about the guns he owned; without even asking them to, he knew that Danny, Chin, Kamekona and Joe were all going to be keeping a close on Alex and, if a boy so much as looked at her, they would be chasing him away.

Hearing someone say her name, Alex waved Grace off, declining her offer of a S'more.

"You don't want one?" Steve asked, looking down at his daughter with a look of surprise on his face. She wasn't a big chocolate eater, he knew that, but she had always enjoyed S'mores on those times when they had gone camping or even when he had just fired up the fire pit in the backyard.

"Nope," she confirmed, resting her head against him again. "Ti amo, papa."

Smiling at her statement, he surprised her by adding more to the phrase she had taught him. "Ti amo, piccolo mia."


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Thank you once again for everyone who is reading this story (there are a LOT of you!) even if you do not review. For those who have reviewed, I really do appreciate your feedback. What I love about this site is the opportunity for direct communication between author and reader. I hope you all (who have access to pms) received a personal thank you for me. If you do not have access to pms then just know that I really do appreciate all of your reviews. **

**I decided to make this chapter a little shorter (about half as short as the last two or maybe three chapters) to see if you enjoy smaller chapters better. This is my first fanfic and I've been writing based on instruction I received during the one creative writing class I took in high school - lots of detail; longer is better; etc. - but I don't know if that works well in this type of creative writing venue. Let me know which one you prefer. **

**Warning for minor use of language.**

* * *

><p>"Love ya, Uncle Danny," Alex said as she backed out of the hug. Turning around on the sidewalk outside of the Honolulu Airport, she grabbed the handle of her small rollaway luggage. "See ya inside, Dad," she told him, before heading in the direction of the doors.<p>

"Right inside the door," Steve shouted in reminder as she walked away. Turning back around to face his partner, he noted the befuddled expression on Danny's face. With a shrug of his shoulders, he said, "She's been extra affectionate the last couple of days; guess that includes you, too, now."

"It's fine," Danny replied, leaning back against the passenger side of his Camaro. "I mean, I love your kid. I just didn't realize she felt the same towards me."

Steve laughed as he grabbed Alex's forgotten backpack off the hood of the car and slung it over his shoulder. "You're kidding right?" Shaking his head in amusement, he continued, "She's crazy about you. In fact, I think she likes you better than me most of the time."

"Well, can you blame her?" Danny joked with a smile on his face. "I am the calm, rational one who actually adheres to a moral code of conduct."

Steve rolled his eyes. "I have morals, Danny." Glancing at his watch, he said, "I better head inside." Their nearly six-hour overnight direct flight to Seattle was scheduled to depart in just over two hours. After checking in for the flight, he would feed himself and Alex before heading for their gate. He bent down and picked up his small black duffle bag from the sidewalk. Straightening, he continued, "Listen, Danny, I know I should have said it the other night but thanks."

"Anytime, babe," Danny replied, stepping away from his spot against the car. "Have a safe flight. If you need anything…"

"Thanks. See you in a couple of days."

* * *

><p>"You got bulkhead seats?" The teenage boys' deep voice made Alex and Steve both look up from their seats where they had just gotten situated after boarding the plane. "Told you your seats were better."<p>

Alex smiled up at the boy that she had just met while waiting to board the flight. He was standing in the aisle behind a long line of other passengers who were slowly making their way towards the back of the plane. "Yeah," Alex replied, catching the expression on her dad's face as she looked past him towards the aisle. "These definitely are better than being in the last row."

"Yeah," the boy agreed, smiling at her. Being nudged on the back by his mom, he said, "See ya when we land." Then he started moving to the back of the plane.

"Don't look at me like that," Alex told Steve, who was carefully watching her and had _that_ look on his face. She bent down and zipped her backpack closed before pushing it underneath the seat in front of her.

"Like what?" Steve asked, his tone suggesting it was an innocent question even though he knew exactly what she was talking about. Within five minutes of taking their seats in the boarding area of their gate, Alex had struck up a conversation with the older teenage boy across from her when she heard him complain to his mother that his iPod battery had died. Discovering a similar taste in music, she had moved to the seat next to him and shared one of her iPod ear buds with him while they scrolled through her playlist and agreed to some album by some artist that he had never heard of before. The two ended up talking in hushed tones and, much to Steve's dismay, Alex had laughed in that flirtatious way that only a teenage girl could. Suffice it to say, he was more than pleased when he overhead the boy – who he was just sure was having impure, hormonally fueled thoughts about his daughter – say that he and his parents would be sitting in the very back of the plane.

"Like that," Alex said pointing at his face. "The way you looked at me on Saturday at Kamekona's." Buckling her seatbelt, she continued, "It's what Uncle Danny calls your 'Aneurysm Face'."

_Two days earlier_

"_Okay, do you know why shrimp trucks are so popular?_" _Steve asked Kamekona_ _as he and Joe sat looking at the four plates of shrimp that the man had placed in front of them. He and Joe were taking a lunch break from Five-0's current investigation of the murder of a deep sea diver known for his remarkable ability to locate shipwrecks and the valuables stored inside. They had chosen Kamekona's to experience first-hand the offerings of the newest shrimp truck on the island and, although he would not admit it publicly, so Steve could check up on his daughter who had graciously offered to help Kamekona for the day. Call him over-protective but, even though Alex had insisted she was okay after the events of the prior day, he was still very much concerned about her. "It's because people know what they're going to get when they go to one. They're going to get garlic scampi, hot and spicy, lemon and butter. Three flavors, not 31."_

"_It's my truck, brah," Kamekona replied, shaking his head at Steve. "Even Little understands that the more you offer the more business you'll get."_

_Joe looked across the table at Steve and mouthed the word 'Little?' before picking up a piece of shrimp jambalaya. _

"_Alex," Steve answered, explaining Kamekona's nickname for his daughter. Looking up at Kamekona, he said, "Speaking of my daughter, where is she?" He had yet to spot Alex anywhere near the shrimp truck; he really hoped she hadn't headed somewhere else without updating him on her location. _

"_On break, brah," Kamekona answered, pushing a plate of food closer to Steve. "She's been helping translate for some of the tourists." _

_Sure enough, at that moment, he heard that familiar laugh of hers and, looking past Kamekona in the direction of the water, he spotted his daughter. He clenched his jaw at the sight of her walking in their direction while engaged in animated conversation with a trio of boys. She was going to drive him to an early grave with all of the attention she received from hormone-crazed boys who had only one thing on their minds. As if she could feel his eyes on her, she looked up, spotted them and then headed towards them alone._

"_Hi, Daddy," Alex greeted sweetly, hugging his neck before taking a seat next to him on the bench. He had that look on his face again: the one where the vein in his forehead looked about ready to pop and his jaw was clenched so tightly it just had to have hurt. "Hi, Commander White."_

"_New friends?" Steve asked, with a scrutinizing look in her direction._

"_Italian tourists," she answered nonchalantly reaching for the plate of garlic shrimp. "They wanted suggestions on what other beaches to hit up."_

_Ignoring the shrimp, Kamekona and Joe, he expelled an annoyed breath. Either she was entirely clueless to the affect she naturally had on teenage boys – which he doubted – or she intentionally sought out ways to cause him stress – which he would bet all the money in the world on. He knew that she was fully aware of just how much he did not like her flirting with, hanging around with, or let alone talking with, teenagers of the opposite sex, yet she had a tendency of doing just that with nearly EVERY single male she came into contact with and it drove him absolutely crazy. He was in for pure hell as she got older, there was no denying that. "For just being tourists you were awful friendly with them."_

_Alex rolled her eyes. "You are paranoid you know that?" Alex mumbled before popping the shrimp in her mouth. _

"_Relax, brah," Kamekona said, "I have my eye on them. If one of them gets too close to Little I will scare him off just like the one from earlier." At his comment, Steve's intense gaze was turned back on his daughter._

_Swallowing, Alex ignored her dad's eyes and, instead, looked up at Kamekona. "Thanks for that, by the way, Kamekona," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Can't tell you how non-embarrassing that was."_

"_I aim to please," Kamekona replied, giving into a smug grin. "Your –"_

_Unable to resist the urge to join the conversation, Joe interjected. "Steve, want me to go over there and talk some sense into them?" With an amused glance at the younger McGarrett, he continued, "You know, show them that thing we do in Seal training in week –"_

_He was interrupted by Alex standing up. With hands on her hips, she glared at Steve. "I think I'm going to request a meeting with the Governor and ask him to extend Lori's contract for four years." She turned her glare on Kamekona and Joe before looking back at her father. "Without her and Kono I'm NEVER going to have a date in high school thanks to you three, Chin, and Uncle Danny."_

_Steve's face broke into a smug smile. "I could live with that."_

At the memory of Alex's response to his comment – she had thrown her hands up in the air in frustration and then walked away – he smiled at her before glancing over her shoulder and out the window at the tarmac.

"Why do you get so crazy every time I talk to a boy?"

Resting his head back on the seat, he looked at her. "Maybe I'm concerned that you don't realize how much of an affect your natural beauty has them."

Alex rolled her eyes. "First off – you're my Dad," she stated as she pulled her hair into a ponytail. "You _have_ to think I'm beautiful. Secondly, I really don't think I'm that pretty." Before Steve could reply to her comment, Alex's phone rang. He listened to her have a brief conversation in French – she must be talking to Brian again – before hanging up and turning off her cell phone. Bending down she pulled her backpack out from under the seat, opened the smallest pouch, slid her phone inside and then zipped it closed again before returning the bag to its' spot under the seat. "But anyways," she said, picking up their conversation where they left off but intentionally changing the conversation to one that she knew would make him uncomfortable, "you love her, don't you?"

He blanched, confused. "Uh, what?" He cleared his throat. "What? Who?"

Alex laughed at the expression on his face. It really was too easy to catch him off guard. "Lieutenant Rollins – Catherine. She told me that you promised to meet her in India during her mid-tour leave."

"When did she tell you that?" His question was joined by a raised eyebrow. His daughter's question had startled him for two reasons. First, he did not realize that Catherine and Alex talked on the phone. Secondly, he was not about to discuss his feelings toward the woman – was it love? – with his daughter when he had not even discussed them yet with Cath.

"Saturday night on her way to the Enterprise."

"I see," Steve said, thinking back to the few minutes in his office the other night when Catherine had come to say goodbye. He had been surprised to see her standing in his office wearing her Dress Whites and had then been even more surprised when she told him she was going on deployment. It hadn't been the first time a deployment had separated them – in fact, it had occurred so many times over the years they had lost count – but, for some reason, this one – this goodbye – had felt different. Ever since that amazing day at the pond – that day that had only taken place thanks to Alex – things had been a little different between them, even though neither of them had vocalized it. He probably should have said something to Cath then but any ideas he had of doing that had gone out the window when she told him that Joe had never submitted the tape of his Dad, Wo Fat, and the former Governor to DOD like Joe had said he had.

"And," Alex started, leaning her head back against the headrest, "she said she was happy to hear that I will be living with you now."

"Yeah," Steve agreed, "she was very happy when I told her that." She had even commented that maybe the three of them could spend more time together. They were both quiet as the plane backed away from the gate, taxied to the runway, and took off into the sky. As the plane continued its' ascent, Alex wrapped one arm under his in a hug and then laid her head against his shoulder. Before the plane even leveled off at the necessary elevation, she was fast asleep.

* * *

><p>"Alexandra! Please stop fidgeting!" Cindy's voice was stern as she placed a hand on her daughter's bouncing thigh.<p>

Alex sent a glare in her mother's direction but then, catching a look from her dad, she turned to look out the windows that covered the wall from floor to ceiling and gave a distant, yet spectacular view, of Puget Sound.

"Cindy, relax," Steve said, looking at her from across the coffee table that separated them. They had just made it to the apartment – now void of about half of Cindy's belongings – after their flight arrived fifteen minutes early. Cindy had met them in the arrivals hall and, not having checked any baggage, they had proceeded directly outside to the 1962 Rolls Royce that Cindy had insisted her driver use to pick them up. "Her fidgeting is not hurting anything."

Looking at his daughter he knew exactly why she was fidgeting – she was getting emotional. Upon entering the apartment, he and Alex had both noticed the missing furniture items and, walking past the open door of the room, the vast emptiness that now made up Cindy's former bedroom. Apparently Cindy had already moved the majority of her things to David's, leaving Alex's room and belongings untouched. Still, it was something that Cindy probably should have told their daughter about before bringing her back to the apartment where she had spent the last ten years; it had to be hard for Alex to see all the changes that occurred in the space while she was gone. They had sat down on the sofa – Alex and Cindy – with him claiming the one recliner that remained in the room and Cindy had started to ramble about her schedule for the week. As she talked Alex had grown more agitated and more fidgety.

"I am trying to inform her of –"

"What is there to tell, Mom?" Alex asked with anger clearly evident in her tone. "Instead of taking off work to spend time with me this week you decided to work."

Cindy took a deep breath as she decided to not address her daughter's tone. "You know it's not easy for me to take off work." She held up her hand when she saw the teenager open her mouth in preparation for arguing with her. "I made dinner reservations for tonight."

"Just the three of us?"

"No," Cindy answered. "David will be there, too. He is my husband now, remember?"

"Of course I remember, _Mom_," Alex replied. "He's the husband that you picked over coming to see me after my –"

"Alexandra, I—"

"Screw this!" Alex shouted, standing up. "This is bullshit!" Despite both of her parents shouting at her about her language, she stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

><p>Opening the front door of her apartment, Cindy took in the sight of her daughter leaning against the wall facing the door next to the boy who had practically grown up with Alex. Turning around in the doorway, she said, "See, Steve, I told you wouldn't have to look far. Anytime Alex gets pissy she seeks out Brian." She stepped into the hall with Steve right behind her.<p>

Stepping in front of her daughter, she reached out a hand and tucked a strand of hair behind Alex's ear. "Reservations are for seven," she told her before stepping back and starting to walk towards the elevator at the end of the hall. "I'll have Peter pick you up at six thirty," she said, pushing the call button for the elevator. With the doors opening immediately, Cindy stepped inside. "See you tonight!"

"Maybe I don't want to go with you to your stupid dinner," Alex muttered, glaring at the closed elevator door.

"You need to relax," Steve told her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"No," Alex stated. "David's an asshole and I'm not going to dinner with him."

"You need to watch your mouth," Steve reproved, shocked yet again by the newfound love his daughter had for cursing. "That's twice now in less than five minutes. Do not make me tell you again."

Alex shook his arm off of her shoulder and, with a fleeting glance at her friend, walked back into the apartment while mumbling words in Italian.

Hearing the door slam shut behind him, Steve expelled a frustrated breath. Not even in Seattle for an hour and a half and already Alex was pissed off and moody. That could not bode well for the rest of the week. Of course, it probably didn't help that they had not had breakfast yet; Alex had a tendency to get cranky when she was hungry. He looked at the boy that was still in the hall with him – dirty blond, shaggy hair; face full of freckles; about Danny's height; brown eyes behind a pair of glasses. He only vaguely remembered meeting this kid six years ago. "So, you're Brian."

"Yes, Sir," the boy answered, sticking out his hand and shaking Steve's. "Nice to see you again."

"Oh, so you do speak English." Every single time Alex had been on the phone with him, they had only ever spoken French.

"Yes, Sir," he answered, giving into a laugh. "French was my first language and Alex prefers speaking it with me." With a nod towards Cindy's apartment, he said, "She'll be okay. I think part of the problem is that she needs something to eat."

"Yeah," Steve agreed with a nod. He glanced back at the closed door and then at the boy. "Hungry?"

Brian laughed again. "I'm a teenager, Sir. I'm always hungry."

Steve nodded, returning the boy's smile. "Wanna join us for breakfast?"

* * *

><p>Steve knocked on Alex's bedroom door and, not getting a response, opened it and stepped into the room. She was standing with her back to him, arms crossed, as she stared out the window. They had returned from breakfast a little over two hours ago – they had gone to a little diner two blocks away that both teens frequented over the years – and, after bidding goodbye to Brian outside his apartment door just down the hallway – his parents owned the only other apartment on this floor – they had come inside. He had suggested they take a nap before starting to tackle all of the packing they needed to do this week so Alex had disappeared into her room while he passed out on the mattress in the guest bedroom. Now, inside her room, noting multiple open boxes on the floor, he discovered that, instead of napping, she had started packing while he was asleep.<p>

He said her name and when she didn't respond he walked over to her and, stepping behind her, wrapped his arm around her, pulling her back against his chest. "Talk to me, Alex." She had been relatively quiet all throughout breakfast and, while it gave him a chance to get to know Brian, he was concerned about her. Even Brian – waiting for Alex to make a trip to the restroom – had observed that Alex was more upset than was usually the case after a fight with her Mom.

She sighed deeply and then stepped out of his embrace, moving past him and over to her desk. Standing there, she fingered the photos on the mini memo board hanging on the wall. She began to take the photos down, stacking them in a pile on top of the desk. She sighed again and turned to face him. "I'm so happy that I get to live with you full-time," she said, tears in her eyes, "but this is so hard."

"I know it is, Alex," he said, sitting on the bed facing her.

"It's hard," she repeated, "but not for the reason you think it is. It's not because Mom gave me to you."

"I know that, Alex," Steve told her, his tone completely sympathetic. "Moving isn't easy, especially when your life has been here for ten years."

She nodded. "Yeah." She gave him a little smile. He really did understand. "Thanks." She picked up the photos and flipped through them. So many memories; so many friends; all of which she'd be saying goodbye to over the next couple of days.

"I don't really remember living in Annapolis," she told him, leaning against the desk. "I don't remember what it was like for the three of us to be a family." She thought for a few moments. "My first real, clear memory is walking into this apartment with Mom. I remember being shocked by how big it was and I remember that I kept asking Mom when you would be moving in." She set the photos down again and diverted her eyes to looking out the window at the ferry boats in the Sound. "Most of my memories are about this apartment, this city, these people. You have full custody now but I get to see Mom whenever I want, right?"

Steve nodded in agreement even though the only thing he could think about was Cindy's admission that she had never wanted their daughter.

"Yeah," Alex said, nodding her head. "But the thing is I won't even have this apartment to come back to anymore." She wiped the tears away with the back of her hand. "I'm not mad at Mom for giving up custody," she told him again. "She actually did us both a favor by giving us what we wanted but I don't get why this is so hard for me and yet so easy for her. She's not here to spend time with me before …" she trailed off as she walked over to the window again. "I have to say goodbye to everything and everyone that I have known for ten years, _including her_, and she …" she trailed off again. She sighed loudly and then looked at him. "Why is it so easy for her to let me go?"

That was the one question of hers he could never and would never answer. He moved to stand up but she held him off. "I don't really want a hug right now, 'kay?"

"Alright," he replied, sitting back down. While she stood there, looking out the window, he glanced around her room. He hadn't been inside here in over three years and much had changed since then. The walls were no longer a pale shade of pink; they were white. No longer was there a collection of stuffed seals – her favorite animal – on a shelf in the corner. Also absent were the pictures of ballerinas, the trophies from her piano and dance recitals, and the porcelain doll collection. In their place were pictures of tourist sites in Paris – the Eiffel Tower; Notre Dame Cathedral; the Arc de Triomphe – and Italy – the Colosseum; Leaning Tower of Piza; the canals in Venice – and numerous pictures of Alex with her grandfather. In addition, he spotted a framed pencil rubbing of his father's dog tags and, next to that, a picture of himself – his official military photo. With a glance to his quiet daughter, he stood up and approached the picture; he was shocked to find a list of all of his military awards – along with the dates he had been awarded them – printed below his picture.

"I missed you." Turning around at his daughter's voice, he saw her leaning against the wall near the window, watching him. "I missed you," she repeated, "so during one of Grandpa's visits he helped me make that list." She joined him by the picture. "I think it was one of his ways to make sure I was just as proud of you as he was."

"Alex," Steve said, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close. "I—"

"It's okay, Dad," she said, resting her head against his chest. "Really it is. I don't like knowing the reason you got some of these ribbons but I'm proud of you. I'm proud you're my Dad."


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Again, thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing. I appreciate all of your wonderful feedback! **

* * *

><p>They spent the rest of Tuesday afternoon slowly going through some of Alex's things. She had decided to tackle her walk-in closet first, sorting through items she had either grown out of or simply didn't want anymore. All of those items would be going into a couple of boxes with specific instructions that, despite what her mother would have preferred her to do, would be donated to the local shelter. That is, if her mom would allow them to borrow one of her cars for a few hours. As she had gone through her clothes, Steve had sat on the floor in her room catching every item marked for donation that she threw at him and placed them inside the boxes.<p>

As they worked, they had talked. He had inquired as to what had happened with her trophies, porcelain dolls, and stuffed seals – he still remembered buying her a pink one to place in her crib right after she was born – and, in answer, she had pulled out three boxes from the back of her closet to show him that she still had the dozen or so trophies, six dolls, and twenty-something seals. He discovered that she hadn't played the piano since Christmas, didn't miss dancing at all, and the seal still was her favorite animal mostly because seals reminded her of him. As it got closer to the time when they would be picked up to head to dinner he had a lengthy talk with her about her language and the need to show respect to her step-father, even if she did not like David. She had apologized for her earlier use of curse words and had promised him she would be respectful at dinner.

That night they went to dinner, having been picked up by Cindy's sometimes driver Peter at 6:30 on the dot, then meeting Cindy and David at El Gaucho's for reservations at seven. Steve had been pleased that his talk with Alex about the need to show respect to her step-father had paid off – she had been courteous, polite, and had held her tongue when David had both tried once again to tell her what to order for both the meal and dessert and had treated the waiter disrespectfully. After dinner, they had all driven back to the apartment together, with Cindy and David returning to their new place after dropping Steve and Alex at the door of the building. Upon their return to the apartment, Alex had turned on ESPN to check the result of the Mariners game and then had called Danny, spending an hour on the phone with him talking about the baseball scores for that day.

On Wednesday morning at five a.m., Steve woke up to the smell of coffee and the sound of his daughter pacing across the expanse of her bedroom while she talked on the phone with Alyssa. After she had finished, Alex called the same diner they had visited the previous day and placed an order for pickup. After returning to the apartment and consuming their breakfast, they had finished filling the donation boxes – this time with old books and art supplies that Alex no longer wanted – before Alex started throwing her shoes – all 38 pairs of them – into a suitcase. Steve had stopped her, telling her that there was no way they would transport one whole suitcase full of just shoes back to Honolulu on the plane. He generously told her to pick ten pairs – giving her enough for two weeks of school – and the rest could be put in a box and shipped through the mail. Then, Steve had suggested they take the rest of the day off and, picking sandwiches up at a deli on the way, they had headed to the Pike Place Fish Market. There Alex had introduced him to several of the fishmongers whom she knew by name – and who knew her by name – before taking a ferry over to Bainbridge Island for a short stroll along the waterfront and a stop for ice cream – raspberry sorbet for Alex; Maraschino Cherries Cream for Steve – at the Mora Iced Creamery . After their return trip across the Sound, they purchased some salmon – at a discounted price thanks to Alex's connections – from the Market before returning to the apartment for a quiet night of father-daughter bonding by way of cooking and eating together.

Thursday morning dawned as it had the day before with coffee brewing and Alex's voice drifting through her closed bedroom door as she talked on the phone. After Cindy dropped by with the keys to her Mercedes – Steve had been completely shocked that she had been open to him borrowing her car for the day – he and Alex had loaded up the car with the donation boxes. Then, following Alex's directions, he had driven to a local homeless shelter and, upon pulling into a parking lot behind the building, they were greeted by a tall African-American woman, whom Alex described as being a former college and professional basketball player who was now the current director of the shelter. When they got out of the car, the woman – Denise – greeted Alex by name and with a hug. An hour later, Steve found himself standing outside of a small classroom inside the shelter next to Denise as he watched his daughter reading a story to a group of twelve kids, none of whom looked older than six years old.

"She said you have full custody now."

Steve diverted his eyes from the sight of Alex looking more joyous and at peace than he had seen her in awhile and turned them to Denise. "Yes," he confirmed, "we head back to Honolulu on Sunday morning."

"That's great," Denise said, her face radiating with a smile. "She talked about you all the time – every day she was here – and, even though Alex said everything was okay at home, her mother always seemed a little absent." She glanced through the glass window at the teenager who had done so much for the children who called this shelter home. "I mean, she gave Alex permission to volunteer here but…"

"About that," Steve said, his curiosity piqued. Never had Alex mentioned the shelter to him, not until they had cleaned out her closet, and, even then, she had never told him that she volunteered there. "How long has Alex been volunteering here?"

"Last summer, sometime," Denise answered. "Minimum age for volunteering is thirteen and usually parents must accompany their children, but Ms. Aberdeen wrote a letter stating that she would only be able to join Alex occasionally and gave permission for your daughter to come alone on those days that she couldn't." With a curious look in his direction, she said, "Of course, I still have never met Alex's mom."

Steve knew, without a doubt, that Cindy would never have given Alex permission to volunteer at the shelter which left only one option. He really did not want to believe that, in addition to pick-pocketing, his daughter was also skilled in another criminal activity: forgery. He would be having a very serious conversation with her later and, if his suspicions were confirmed, he would be grounding her for an indefinite amount of time.

"This classroom exists because of her." When Denise saw the nonplussed look on his face, she explained, "She's great with kids. Her first day volunteering she was talking to some of the kids and they told her that they wished they had a quiet place to read or draw or learn. A couple days later she asked if there was any way to build a classroom for the kids. I told her we had the space – this room had been empty for years – but that we didn't have the funds." She gave into a small laugh and shook her head. "She must have thought about it all weekend because the following Monday she showed up with a drawing of how she envisioned the classroom, a list of supplies needed to build it, _and_ a budget." Hearing laughter coming from inside the room, they both looked inside where the kids were spreading out around the room, with some looking through the art supplies donated by Alex, others heading to the reading corner, and a handful of the youngest – maybe three or four years old – pulling out a tub of blocks and dumping them on the floor. "A couple of weeks later she had raised all of the money needed according to her budget and, well," she said, with a sweep of her hands across the span of the classroom window, "the kids have had this for nine months now."

Steve couldn't help it but a proud smile filled his face. His kid was amazing; it was as simple as that. Even if she had kept it a secret from him and, most likely, also her mother. "She –" He was interrupted when he felt someone tug on his hand. Looking down, he saw a little boy, no older than four years of age, looking up at him with wide brown eyes. Squatting down in front of the child, Steve greeted, "Hi."

"Mister," the little boy said, "you're Alex's daddy, right?"

Steve smiled. "Yes, I am; how did you know?"

"'Cuz you look the same." The boy held up a Dr. Seuss book – _One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish_ – that Steve remembered reading to Alex nearly every night for three months straight when she was four. "Can you read this to me?"

* * *

><p>"So how long am I grounded for?"<p>

He had not been expecting her question. They had literally just pulled out of the parking lot of the shelter and he had yet to make a single comment to her about any of the information Denise had told him. Pondering his approach to the subject, he decided that, since she obviously felt she had done something that constituted being grounded, this could serve as the perfect opportunity to determine just how honest she could be with him. Knowing the details that Denise had provided him would allow him to know if Alex would choose to lie straight to his face. He really hoped their relationship had progressed enough that he would not have to call her out on a lie. "That depends; what did you do?"

Alex looked at him in surprise. He had spent a good twenty minutes talking to Denise while she had been reading to the kids. It only made sense that Denise had told him about… well, about everything. She wondered if maybe he was testing her for some reason. "Denise didn't tell you?"

He didn't answer her question. Instead, he forced himself to keep his eyes straight ahead on the road while he waited to see what his daughter would say next.

When he didn't answer her, she decided that her question had been rhetorical – _of course_ he was aware of how she had lied to both him and mom, keeping her association with the shelter a secret. _Of course_ he had figured out that she had never actually been given parental permission to volunteer at the shelter. _Of course_ he had figured out where she had gotten the money to pay for the renovation of the classroom. And _of course_ he was testing her to see if she could be honest and upfront with him; testing to see if their relationship really had developed into a good one. She wasn't stupid and, although some of her behavior over the summer would dispute otherwise, she really was not much of a liar either. Honesty, for her, had always been important in any relationship. Not that it had always been reciprocated; her mom was a clear example of that. She would take responsibility for her actions and if that meant she ended up getting grounded for eternity, then so be it. Nothing was worse than ruining the relationship she had spent ten weeks building with her dad.

"Last summer I was bored. Grandpa came to see me for ten days in July but after that I got bored again. I saw a newspaper article about Denise becoming the new director and that she was looking for volunteers to come help out in the donation center and the kitchen." She turned in her seat slightly and then turned her head to look at her dad, whose attention was still on the road in front of them. In the chance that he actually decided to glance at her, she wanted him to see in her eyes that she was being completely open and honest with him. "I rode my bike over here one day and asked if teenagers were allowed to volunteer. She told me that I was old enough but needed a signed permission slip and that parents were encouraged to volunteer with their kids."

The car stopped at a red light and finally her dad looked at her. "I asked mom if she would sign the form and she pretty much told me it was a stupid idea. She said I had no business being inside a homeless shelter even if it was just for volunteering. I mean, she doesn't exactly have nice things to say about people who live in shelters."

"Right," Steve agreed, glancing up at the traffic light.

"Right," Alex echoed, scratching her eye absently. "Anyways, I thought about it for a couple of days and I decided that I still really wanted to help out at the shelter."

"So did you forge your mother's signature?" He kept his tone calm and non-accusatory.

Alex shook her head. "No." Seeing that change in his eyes that always expressed some sort of disbelief, she explained, "Really, Dad, I didn't. I mean, it would have been super easy to do that because her signature – well you know how her signature is, but I didn't. I wrote a letter that said she would try to be with me when I volunteered but that she couldn't guarantee it because of work and that she gave me permission to be there without her. Then mom signed both it and the permission slip."

Stepping on the gas and heading through the intersection, Steve was now confused. "Wait, so your mom knew you were working at the shelter?"

"No. Mom doesn't exactly read what she signs." Alex laughed, amused at the thought that just popped in her head. "I could probably take one of her checks and fill in the dollar amount to be a million bucks and ask her to sign it and she would have no idea how much money it was for." She dropped the smile on her face when she saw the look on her dad's face. Yep, she was going to be grounded for sure. Oh well, she had resolved herself to being honest with him; why stop now? "Look, Dad, I know it was wrong to make everyone at the shelter think I had mom's permission to be there. But, since I'm being honest with you, I'll tell you that I'm glad I did what I did and if I had to do it all over again I would do the same thing."

"Well, you're right," Steve told her reprovingly. "You should have made sure your mom knew what she was signing. You should have not mislead Denise – if something had happened to you –"

"Dad, nothing –" she started to interrupt him before being cut off.

"Just hear me out, Alex, okay?" Receiving a nod from her, he continued, "I know you think you are pretty grown up sometimes but you are still a child – _my_ child – and you were only thirteen. You should have told your mom or me or even Grandpa. We need to know where you are at all times."

"I know," Alex told him, mild frustration seeping into her tone. "I _know_ that but mom never would have gone for it, if I told Grandpa he would have told her, and you and I… well, we weren't like we are now." She watched as his jaw clenched at her last comment. She reached over and placed her hand on top of his which was resting on the gear shift. "I know it was wrong and that you'll probably ground me for a million years but I won't say I'm sorry."

Steve sighed. He was more than pleased that she had decided to be completely honest with him but she was so stubborn when it came to certain things. Still, she had come clean and she knew she had done wrong; he owed it to her to hear her out. "Okay, so even though I am going to ground you why would you choose to do the same thing all over again?"

Her face illuminated with a smile and her eyes lit up. "The kids." Turning to look over her right shoulder, she said, "Um, you were supposed to turn right at that light."

"I know," he replied, "but we're going to get something to eat first." He gave her a warm and gentle smile to let her know that he was more than interested in hearing more. "What about the kids?"

She returned his smile. "Most of the people who are at the shelter are there because of domestic violence. I mean, there are some families there who lost their jobs and homes because of the recession, but more than half of the kids there have had really hard lives." She rolled up the car window as the first few raindrops began to strike the windshield. "Because of privacy concerns I don't know for sure which kids but some of them have either seen their mom's abused or have been abused themselves. The first day I was there I saw how miserable some of them were – they had no place of their own to just be kids again. The shelter had funding for job training and counseling services and food, but nothing that could be used for the kids who were too young to go to school."

"So you figured you would help."

She nodded. "Yeah, I did. I thought it was important to help Denise achieve her dream of giving those kids their childhoods back. Every kid should have a chance to just be a kid."

Steve smiled. "Yes, they should." Glancing at her, he asked, "So, how exactly did you –"

"I did some research and came up with a budget on what it would cost for everything."

"And, how much was that exactly?"

"About five thousand or so," she told him. "But I was able to reduce that down by quite a bit because of the donations I got." Seeing the questions in his eyes, she explained, "James – one of the fishmongers I introduced you to – he helps repaint interiors on the weekend and, when he found out what I was doing, he donated some paint he had leftover from a couple of jobs. Another fishmonger had some leftover carpeting from when he re-carpeted his house. And one of the dads at the shelter is a carpenter so all I had to do was purchase some wood and he made the table and the bookshelves."

Steve was impressed. "That's pretty resourceful."

"I guess," Alex said with a shrug. "Anyways, that dropped the cost down to just over two grand so I did some fundraising in our building and in Alyssa's neighborhood. People were really generous so that left about three hundred dollars."

Realization started to dawn on Steve. "When exactly was this?"

"October," she answered, "I think."

"The money from your account," he commented, thinking back all those months ago when she had asked him for permission to take some money out of the bank account he had established for her. "You lied to me."

"Not really," she said, knowing that, despite making a valid point, this was going to tack on another fifty years of scrubbing a bathroom with a toothbrush to her punishment. "I told you it was for a project. And you can ground me for life and I won't care. It's worth it when I think about how happy those kids are."

Steve sighed as he pulled into a parking lot outside of a café he used to bring Alex to when she was younger. Parking in a spot near the building, he turned off the car. "Listen, Alex," he said, turning to face her and placing a hand on top of hers. "You're an incredible kid and I love how much you care about other people. I love how compassionate you are and how you try to make the world a better place. I am blessed to have you as a daughter; you make me proud to be your dad." Squeezing her hand, he gave her a smile before turning serious. "But, despite all that, I'm still grounding you. I don't know for how long just yet but you should never have kept this a secret from us. Your safety and well-being is my number one concern; we should have known where you were and what you were doing. You should have been honest with your mom about what she was signing. You're also in trouble for not being completely honest with me about the money."

"I understand, Dad."

"And the next time you get it in your head to do something like this, come to me and we'll work on it together, okay?"

"I will. I promise."

* * *

><p>After returning to the apartment building after lunch – and an impromptu trip to a souvenir store so Alex could pick something up for Sam – they had run into Brian in the hallway outside of the apartment. He had been bouncing a tennis ball against the wall and, upon seeing him, Alex had asked him if was home alone and bored again. Hearing the boy answer in the affirmative, Steve had invited him over to help pack more of Alex's things and to stay for dinner. He had enjoyed getting to know the kid a little more and had been pleased to see that his relationship with Alex was exactly as she had claimed it to be all those weeks ago – they acted like siblings, much in the way he and Mary had interacted at one point. After helping with the dishes, Brian had returned to his home.<p>

Early Friday morning Steve had passed by Alex's room on his way to the bathroom. He had done a double-take when he spotted the blond-haired boy sleeping on the floor in Alex's room, one of her pillows under his head. Before he had the chance to rouse both of the teens from sleep with a disapproving shout, Alex had opened her eyes, put her fingers to her lips, and joined him in the hall. Pulling her door closed behind her, she had explained that Brian sometimes showed up in the middle of night to crash on her floor when his parents – who apparently had a very unhealthy relationship – were arguing. He had shown up at one in the morning after waking up to the sound of a glass vase breaking into pieces as it had been thrown against the wall. She then promised to tell him more details later, after Brian had returned home.

At eleven that morning, Steve and Brian's surprise for Alex – they had discussed it over lunch on Tuesday and via text after that – had gone off without a hitch. Alex had nearly started crying when about a dozen of their friends showed up at the apartment for a goodbye party. The teenagers managed to finish off four large pizzas that Steve had ordered for them and then Steve had a rather engaging conversation about the Navy – per their request – with the five boys who had shown up. The kids then had a dance party in the living room before they all made their tearful goodbyes around three in the afternoon. After staying to help clean up, Brian had returned home. Then, Steve and Alex visited the Space Needle, where they headed up to the observation deck for a view of the city, before returning back to the apartment for dinner and a movie.

On Saturday morning, they borrowed Cindy's car again to head to the post office, where Steve spent a pretty penny on shipping costs for mailing Alex's things to Oahu. Then they met Cindy for brunch at a café near the apartment, during which she told them she would like the three of them to spend the day together if they did not already have plans. Despite that sinking feeling in his stomach, Steve had agreed and off they headed to Alki Beach, where they strolled on the two-and-a-half mile walking path along which Alex had stopped multiple times to take pictures of the Olympic Mountains, Puget Sound, and the mix of steamships, sailboats, and ferries that dotted the aquatic landscape. Even though Alex was engaging in conversation with Cindy and, despite her many smiles and laughs, Steve sensed that she was just as confused by Cindy's friendliness as he was. After all, the last time Cindy had been this nice – just over a week ago – it had resulted in Alex getting hurt.

When they made it back to the apartment – Cindy had insisted they continue spending time together – they had all contributed to dinner preparation and then eaten the meal. For a second there, Steve had seen a glimpse of the old Cindy – that girl of seventeen whose smile had caught his attention while on Winter Break from the Army and Navy Academy; that woman who used to sing their infant daughter to sleep every night; that young woman of twenty-two that he used to dance with in the kitchen while cooking. Those were good memories – some of the best, in fact – and it was painful knowing how much it had all changed; how she had changed to become a woman that he, had it been seventeen years ago, never would have been attracted to.

Finally, at the end of their meal, Alex had asked the question that had also been on his mind since that morning. She had asked her mother why she was being so friendly – why she suddenly had decided to spend time with her, with both of them – and, before Cindy had even opened her mouth to answer, he knew Alex would be getting hurt again. He had just never imagined how bad it would be. He never imagined it would feel as if the ground had been pulled out from under him, from under them – him and Alex. He had never imagined that it would result in his daughter running out of the apartment and that, twenty-five minutes later, after Cindy had finally left, he would be knocking on the door to Brian's apartment. But that's exactly where he found himself on this stormy night in Seattle.

"Hi," Steve greeted to the man who opened the door. "Steve McGarrett; I'm Alex's dad."

"Right. Brian said you were in town," the man throwing the dishtowel in his hand over his shoulder before shaking Steve's hand. "Robert Lawson," he introduced himself before noting the worried look on Steve's face. "Everything okay?"

"I'm looking for my daughter," Steve told him, running a shaky hand through his hair. "Is she with Brian by any chance?"

Robert shook his head. "I haven't seen her – hold on." He shouted for his son and soon the men were joined by Alex's longtime friend.

"Mr. McGarrett, uh, hi," Brian said, a little confused at why his friend's dad was standing at their door. He had not expected to see Alex or her dad until tomorrow morning as they left the building to head to the airport.

Looking at his son, Robert said, "He's looking for Alex."

"She's not here, Sir," Brian told Steve. "I haven't seen her since you guys left this morning."

Steve's shoulders fell in defeat at Brian's comment. If she wasn't with her friend, then where the hell could she be? "Thanks," Steve said as his face grew with concern. "Sorry for the interruption." He turned to walk towards the elevator; maybe she had headed down to the lobby or the coffee shop next door.

"Did she have a fight with her mom?"

Steve stopped and turned around at the sound of Brian's voice. "Sort of."

"Then she probably went to the ferry boat station," Brian told him, stepping past his father and into the hall. "She goes there sometimes; buys a roundtrip ticket and then –"

Robert interrupted his son. "You've known that's where she goes and you didn't say anything?" On a handful of occasions during the last school year, Cindy had mentioned her gratitude to both him and his wife for allowing Alex to visit their apartment after the two of them had had a disagreement. On some of those occasions Alex had, in fact, been at their apartment, hanging out with their son, but there were also several nights when Alex had been unaccounted for. At the time, their son had denied knowing where she had gone; the truth now out, Brian would be grounded. Looking at Steve, he said to his son, "We'll talk about this later, got it?"

"Yeah," Brian answered. "The next one leaves at nine."

Steve glanced at his watch. 8:40. "How far away is the station?"

"Five miles," Robert answered. "I'll drive you."

* * *

><p>Leaving the lobby of the luxury apartment building, she took off running along the all-too familiar route. Three blocks away, she was already soaked to the bone thanks to the brutal thunderstorm bearing down over Seattle. As she ran, the relentless raindrops masked the tears that were trailing down her cheeks. She knew her dad would be worried about her but, right now, with as much pain as she was feeling, she didn't care. She just needed to stop hurting; she needed to stop feeling. So she ran. She ran to forget what had just happened; to forget what her mother had just done. She ran to forget the words, to forget the indescribable pain she had felt – as if shards of glass were tearing at her insides – when she realized what it all meant. She ran to forget the harshness of it all. She wanted to run until she was numb, until the heartache disappeared and her legs gave out, until she didn't feel anything anymore, and all that was left to do was to breathe.<p>

* * *

><p>Robert had dropped Steve in the unloading zone at Pier 52 with the promise that he would stick around to drive them back to the apartment. After quickly expressing his gratitude and, once again checking his watch – it told him it was 9:04 – Steve ran towards the section of the boat loading area reserved for pedestrians, hoping that the nine o'clock departure had been delayed for some reason. His pants were soaked up to the knees thanks to the numerous puddles he tread through and his hair was plastered to his head as rivulets of rain water coursed down his face.<p>

He reached the loading dock and was forced to stop. _I'm too late._ He could do nothing but watch as the boat pulled away; with it, his daughter. If she took the first boat back from Bainbridge Island, the earliest she would be getting back would be nearly an hour and a half from now. _Son of a bitch! _He stood there, truly and utterly lost; he couldn't exactly swim after the ferry, hop on board, and search for Alex. He was angry, confused, and hurt – all thanks to Cindy's latest action – while also scared, worried, and heartbroken for his innocent daughter who didn't deserve any of this. She didn't deserve to be treated like this.

Ignoring the looks of the other pedestrians, bikers, and motorists, he moved off to the side, leaning against a railing, as he tried to wrap his mind around everything that had happened over the course of the last sixty minutes. He wondered where they would go from here; from this point on everything would be different. That was when he heard it; that was when he heard her.

"Daddy."

As the crowd parted, there stood Alex, not even ten feet away from him, her body illuminated by the glow of a streetlight, looking like she had just emerged from the Puget Sound. She was drenched to the bone from the rain, her hair plastered flat against her head, clothes clinging to her body, and she was shivering. The still-falling rain did nothing to hide her puffy, red eyes and the fact that she had been crying. He crossed the gap between them and pulled her to him, wrapping his open jacket around her. With a teeth-chattering shiver, she said, "I want to go home."

* * *

><p>Opening the door to the apartment, he gently pushed Alex inside ahead of him and then closed the door behind them. Leading her down the hallway, he told her to go into the bathroom and get out of her wet clothes while he found her something warm to wear. When he came back from her bedroom, with a pair of sweatpants and long-sleeve t-shirt in hand, he found her right where had he left her – standing in the hall, dripping so much water onto the hardwood floor that a small puddle had formed by her feet. He led her by the hand into the bathroom, setting the dry clothes on the counter, and then took his jacket off from around her shoulders. Hanging the jacket over the shower rod, he brushed wet hair off of her face and then, with her attention on him, again told her to get changed.<p>

With instructions to hang her clothes over the side of the tub, he had left the bathroom and ventured into the guest bedroom where he changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Next, he had grabbed a towel out of the hall linen closet and used it to dry up the puddle of water in the hallway. Then he had moved to the kitchen where he put a kettle of water on the stove to boil. Spotting the item that had been the cause of Alex fleeing the apartment in the first place, he picked it up off the table and deposited it in the guest bedroom on top of his carry-on luggage. Then, returning to the kitchen, he prepared two cups of tea and, meeting Alex at the couch, handed one to her which earned him a barely-there smile.

She had taken only a couple of sips before setting the mug down on the coffee table and laying her head on a pillow in his lap. As she started flipping through the channels on the TV with the remote, she shivered, which led him to covering her with the afghan on the back of the couch. He didn't say anything – he didn't know _what_ to say – and, even if he had somehow found the words, he knew they would do very little to soothe her broken heart. She had continued flipping through the channels, stopping first on ESPN to check the Mariners score, then on the local news for ten minutes, then she finally relinquished the remote over to him, as she snuggled under the blanket. Wanting to comfort her somehow – and still not finding the proper words – he ran his fingers through her towel-dried hair in an attempt to untangle it and, just like she had when she was five and had a broken arm and had insisted on sleeping with him on the couch, she eventually fell asleep. With a glance at his watch, he resolved himself to stay up for the next four hours, keeping watch over her sleeping form, until he had to wake her to get ready to head to the airport. Maybe over the course of the next four hours he would figure out how to deal with everything that had taken place. Maybe he would figure out how to help his daughter in the days and weeks ahead.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I know this is a bit of a cliffhanger but all will be revealed in the next chapter which should be up some time over the weekend. Thanks for reading!**


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: This is only part of what this chapter should have included but this has been a tough, emotional day for me (deadly tornadoes; whole towns wiped off the map; personal issues) so I decided to just post this right now. I just don't have it in me tonight to finish tweaking the rest of the chapter. As it is, this ended up being sorta dialogue-heavy but oh well. It is what it is.  
><strong>

**For everyone who has reviewed, thank you as always. :-) Please read and review. **

* * *

><p>Danny was not sure what was going on with the two McGarrett's but something unpleasant had clearly taken place in Seattle and he would bet anything it had to do with Alex's mother. Meeting them in the arrivals hall, Alex had muttered a quick 'hello' before pulling out her cell phone and dialing who he could only assume was Josh Sullivan. Steve, having inquired about their caseload during his absence, had been distracted the entire time Danny had talked, with his attention instead focused on the teenage girl who, upon reaching baggage claim, had moved off to the side, out of hearing distance, offering absolutely no help in claiming their luggage from the conveyor belt. Alex had finally put down her cell phone upon reaching his car, but, as soon as she was settled in the backseat, she pulled out her iPod and proceeded to play the music loud enough that both he and Steve could hear it in the front seat. With a curious look in Steve's direction – Steve had <em>always<em> instructed his daughter to turn the music down when it reached an insane decibel level – he was surprised when the man didn't say a word to her. Instead, Steve had adjusted the visor on his side of the car – the passenger side, which was, in and of itself, unusual – to watch Alex in the mirror as the girl had launched into a rough sounding coughing fit. He had tried multiple times to find out what was going on but, each time, Steve had insisted on talking about it later. Danny had also unsuccessfully tried to warn Steve about the surprise that was waiting for him and Alex at their house; he just wasn't sure that, based on her behavior, Alex would appreciate the scene she would encounter upon entering the home.

His suspicions, although he didn't understand why, were confirmed when, exiting the Camaro, Alex had pushed past her father, grabbing the house key out of his hand as she did, and hurried to the front door. As she pushed open the door, he and Steve, who was only a couple of steps behind his daughter, heard the multiple shouts of "Surprise!" and "Welcome home!" After standing in complete shock for several long moments as she stared at the large group gathered there – Chin, Kono, Lori, Grace, Sam, Josh, Jason, Joe White, Kamekona, and Max – Alex had taken off upstairs, taking them two at a time, before heading to her bedroom and slamming the door shut behind her.

Before Steve could even think about going after his daughter, Josh, who had been updated about the situation less than thirty minutes ago, had stepped forward, saying, "Let me go. Please."

"Okay," Steve told the boy, before instructing, "Her bedroom door stays open, got it?"

"Yes, Sir."

When Josh was upstairs and out of sight, Steve turned his attention to the eleven questioning faces that were looking at him. With a glance towards the two other fathers in the room, he waited until they sent their nine-year-old children to the backyard before starting to explain Alex's behavior.

* * *

><p>"Hey," Josh greeted, approaching her from behind. When he had stepped into Alex's room, he spotted her through the closed sliding glass door, sitting in a chair on the balcony. Tripping over the backpack and flip flops she had haphazardly left on the floor, he picked up the bag and set it on the desk before joining her outside.<p>

"Hey," she greeted, not bothering to give him even a mere glance as she covered her mouth when she started coughing again.

As he claimed the seat next to her, he attempted a joke. "Guess we did actually manage to surprise you." When all he got was a grunt from her in return, he sighed. He turned his head away from her as he kicked off his sandals and rested his feet on the balcony railing. Looking out at the beach where his brother and Grace were starting to build sand castles, he said, "I know the last thing you want to hear right now is 'I'm sorry' so I won't say it. I'll just say that I think it sucks your mom decided to follow in my mom's footsteps."

"Yeah," Alex said in a hushed tone, as she rested her chin in her palm of the arm she had resting on the arm of the chair.

* * *

><p>"Last night was a bad night," Steve announced to everyone, feeling slightly ridiculous after he said it. It wasn't like they needed him to say that; Alex's behavior made it perfectly clear that something had happened. "I'm now a single father." He ran a hand over the stubble on his face. "Permanently." Glancing at each of his friends, he added, "Forever." Seeing the confusion splayed across each of their faces, he sat on the arm of the couch. "Cindy is filing the paperwork to terminate her parental rights."<p>

The room filled with mostly gasps and looks of awe. The only exception was Jason Sullivan who had an entirely different emotion splayed across his face.

"Steve," Chin and Joe said at the same at the same time before he interrupted them.

With a glance upstairs at the open door of his daughter's room, he said, "Cindy – she –" He cleared his throat. When he spoke again his voice was void of any emotion but they all knew he was struggling to hold it all together. "She told Alex that she loved her but that she couldn't be her mother anymore." He sighed and shook his head. "She said it was something she should have done a long time ago – that Alex should have come to live with me a long time ago."

* * *

><p>"How's your Dad dealing with it?" Josh finally asked after several minutes of silence. Alex clearly did not want to talk about her own feelings, not that he blamed her; he'd been in this position himself and, sometimes, it was hard, even after all these years, to talk about it.<p>

"I don't know," she admitted with a shrug of her shoulders. "I haven't exactly said much to him since last night." Glancing at Josh, she explained, "It's not like I've gone mute but the last full sentence I said to him was at the ferry station when I told him I wanted to go home."

Josh didn't respond right away as he thought back to how he had acted after his own mother had abandoned him. "Is that because you're mad at him?"

Alex shook her head. "No, not at all." She shifted in the chair, bringing her right foot up to rest under her left thigh. "I have no need to be mad at him; it's not his fault my mom did what she did."

"Yeah," Josh muttered, his eyes focused on some distant point on the horizon.

Recognizing the expression on his face as one of guilt, she reached over and touched his hand. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he replied, shrugging off her touch before standing and walking to the balcony railing. With a sigh, he turned around and faced her, arms crossed in front of him as he leaned back against the railing. "It's just – my mom left us at the police station and it took my Dad three days to get back from Iraq. That whole time I was focused on Sam – making sure he was okay; playing with him; giving him a bath; everything – that when my Dad got back I was mad. I treated him horribly for a long time. I told him numerous times that it was his fault she left – that if he cared more about us and less about the Army then she never would have left."

"You were eight," Alex said, now standing in front of him, toe-to-toe. "You were two months away from turning nine and your entire world fell out from under you. You had a right to be angry."

"At _her_," he corrected. "I had a right to be angry at _her_ not my Dad."

"You were hurting, Josh," she reminded him. "Your dad knew that and he doesn't hold that against you."

Josh nodded before giving her a smile several seconds later. "Thanks." When she moved next to him, he turned around to face the ocean. "Then why aren't you talking to him?"

She shrugged. "I don't know." Her face told him that she was telling the truth; she was trying to make sense of everything. After several minutes of silence – except for the sound of Grace and Sam laughing from the beach down below – she finally spoke. "I think it's because I don't know what to say to him." Turning to look at him, there were tears forming in her eyes. "I don't know how to tell him what I'm feeling because I don't really understand it myself. It's just…" she trailed off, sniffling, before blinking away the tears.

"It's like you're feeling every possible human emotion all at once," he finished for her, again calling to mind his own experience with a poor excuse of a mother. "Guilt, shame, anger, embarrassment –"

"Confusion, regret, weariness," she interrupted him, taking the words right out of his mouth. She returned to the chair, her body slumping seemingly in defeat.

"Sadness, shock, disgust," he added, removing his baseball cap to scratch his head. Then, sitting down next to her, he rested his elbows on his knees and began to play with a loose thread hanging from the Mariners logo on the front of the cap. "Yeah, it's hard to tell people what you're feeling when your emotions keep changing from minute to minute."

"Yeah," she nodded, "but it's more than that, Josh." When he looked at her, she continued, "I felt all those things last night but this morning – right now – I'm feeling something different."

"Which is?"

She looked up at the sky, as if trying to decide if she should answer his question or not. She sighed before looking at him again. "Maybe it means I'm emotionally inept or that there is something psychologically wrong with me, but the only thing I'm feeling right now is relief."

"Relief?" Josh asked in disbelief. Sure, sometimes he himself felt that same emotion when it came to thinking about his and Sam's last moments with their mother but that had taken many therapy sessions, many arguments with his dad, and years of soul-searching before he had ever equated her abandoning them with that word. He certainly had not felt that less than twenty-four hours after his mother had dropped them at the police station after telling them she could not be their mother anymore.

"Yeah," she answered giving into a shaky laugh. "For the first time in over three years she acknowledged that she was the cause of my pain. For the first time in a long time she is doing something to help make me happy." With a tear in her eye, she looked away from him. "I'm relieved because she finally admitted that my dad is good for me; that I should be with him. I'm relieved because I think she has had this planned for a long time and, this summer, she _finally_ got the courage to do it. I know it's stupid to think like that but I really am relieved that, for once, she's doing something with my best interest in mind." With the last statement, a smile appeared on her face. "She's giving me to my dad for good and by relinquishing her maternal rights she's making it so she can't hurt me anymore."

"That's not stupid," Josh finally said, placing the cap back on his head. "I have my bad days, of course," he started, meeting her eye. "You know – those days when I am so angry all I want to do is punch a wall or when all I can do is sit there and wonder where she is or what she's doing. If she's even alive." With a shrug, he continued, "But most of the time I'd rather have a mother who abandoned me than one who stuck around and was miserable every day because she hated being a mom. I'm glad that she was aware of her pain and inabilities to be a good mother and did something about it instead of becoming a mom who decided to take her pain out on us physically."

* * *

><p>Pulling the door closed behind him, Jason looked to his left and found Steve slumped in a chair on the porch, elbows on his knees, head cradled in his hands. After informing everyone about what had occurred the previous night in Seattle, Steve had politely excused himself, saying he needed to check on something in the garage. While everyone else had dispersed in small groups throughout the house – undoubtedly discussing the latest hurt Cindy had inflicted on her daughter – he had given Steve five minutes before deciding to join him outside. Seeing him sitting like that now, Jason's mind took him back six years ago, when he had felt as lost and broken as Steve now looked.<p>

"I know you're not up for talking right now," Jason said, leaning against the side of the house. "And that's perfectly fine, but if you want to talk to someone who understands, just let me know."

At his comment, Steve looked up, confusion splashed across his face. "What?"

"I figured Alex would have told you," Jason commented, moving past Steve to claim the other chair.

"Told me?" Steve asked, running a hand across his face. "Told me what?"

Jason truly was surprised that Steve had no idea what he was talking about. The first couple of years after Megan had left, Josh had opened up to a handful of his friends about what had taken place but, each time, the kids had broken his son's confidence and ended up blabbing the information to other students at school. Jason himself had been forced to deal with apologetic looks and questions from numerous adults whose children had passed the information on to them. Eventually, two years ago, Josh had stopped confiding in his friends about his mother. As a result, he had been surprised to learn that Josh, barely two weeks after meeting Alex at summer camp, had confided in her about, not only the fact that his mother had essentially disappeared, but every detail of the situation. At the time, Josh had told him that he knew Alex wouldn't betray his confidence – she was just that kind of friend – but Jason had never considered the fact that she wouldn't even tell her own father.

"About why I have sole custody of my boys."

Leaning back in the chair, Steve admitted, "Alex hasn't told me anything; it's not any of my business."

"Right," Jason replied, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, "but it is relevant to what you're dealing with right now." Seeing the still-confused look on Steve's face, he started to explain. "Six years ago, I was deployed to Baghdad. One day I got called into my CO's office where he told me my deployment was getting cut short." He expelled a loud breath before continuing. "My wife drove my sons to a police station in Fayetteville and dropped them off outside after telling Josh that she couldn't be their mom anymore. She gave him a note to take inside and hand to the first cop that he saw."

"Jason," Steve said, feeling utter disbelief at what he was hearing. "I am so sorry; I had no idea."

Jason gave him a small, gracious smile. "After eleven years of marriage and two kids later, Megan decided that being a wife and mother were not for her. She decided that we would be better off without her." Giving into a conflicted chuckle, he commented, "Would have been nice if she had considered consulting with me first, but…"

"I really had no clue," Steve repeated, unable to find the proper words. Not that there were any.

* * *

><p>"I guess I kinda bypassed the first four stages of grief," Alex commented, her mood considerably lighter now that Josh truly understood what she was feeling at that moment. It felt so good to know that he understood her weird feeling of relief at her mom's decision to terminate her rights as a mother. "And moved directly to the Acceptance Stage." Shifting in her seat, she then admitted, "Although I bet at some point I'll return to the other stages."<p>

Josh nodded in agreement as he watched his brother running around in the backyard below them. "You will." Turning to look at her, he said, "You'll wake up one day angry and, most likely, you'll turn that anger on your dad – like I did – or you'll experience moments of rage. Another day you'll wake up, completely depressed, and not want to get out of bed. All you'll want to do is cry."

"Yeah," Alex acknowledged, bringing to mind her grandfather's death and how she had acted during each stage of grief after that. Although grief was normal and the stages were an important part of the healing process, she had to admit that sometimes she had just been downright irrational. Hopefully, when she did get angry or depressed over her mom, she would be more level-headed than she had been in the past. She looked up when Josh placed his hand on top of hers.

"Just remember you're not alone," he told her, his green eyes piercing her own. "When you get that way, just let me know and I'll be here for you." With a smirk on his face, he added, "Even if it means we ditch school for the day."

* * *

><p>"Sam's been the easiest," Jason stated as his conversation with Steve continued. "He was three; he barely remembers Megan." He shrugged. "I don't know if that's a good thing or not."<p>

"And Josh?"

"Josh has been…" he trailed off as he recalled their life right after Megan had run off when Josh had nothing but contempt for him. Josh had been so angry and so full of rage – he had broken his hand from punching through a wall; he'd suffered serious cuts to his fist from punching through a plate glass window; he had taken physical risks in hopes of hurting himself – and, to this day, every morning Jason sends up a silent word of gratitude to the therapist who had worked with Josh for that whole first year. He recalled that day – four years ago – when his son had – for the first time in two and a half years – said he loved him and that he no longer blamed him for his mother leaving. He brought to mind every moment since then – the good; the bad; the indifferent – and how, in the end, it had brought him closer to his sons, especially his oldest. "I'd be lying if I said it hasn't been challenging; for awhile there, I was really concerned about him."

Glancing at Steve, he said, "I can pretty much guarantee you will have some difficulties with your daughter – misplaced anger; acting out; mood swings – but she'll be okay. You will be okay. Somehow, you'll both get through the fights and the guilt and the anger and it'll bring you closer together."

"Mood swings, huh?" Steve said, oddly feeling the need to make a joke. "She's a teenage girl; some days her mood swings are harder to deal with than some of the missions I had in the Navy."

Both men enjoyed a laugh for a few minutes. Then, turning serious again, Jason commented, "Obviously I have no experience parenting to a girl but I assume you will have to deal with more tears than I've had to."

"Yeah," Steve replied, "there's no doubt about that."

"Kids are resilient, Steve," Jason said needlessly. Steve, of all people, considering his daughter's kidnapping, knew just how resilient children could be. "I actually think it's harder on us sometimes than it is on them." He turned his gaze to the pair of Myna birds resting on a tree branch in the yard and listened for many moments as they communicated with each other. "I look at my boys and I see Megan – Sam's laughter; Josh's smile; their eyes. I hear them singing and playing music and I can't help but think about the way she played the violin or how I still think her voice is the best I've ever heard. I see their zest for life; I watch them grow; I see them discover new things; I wonder if she realizes how much she's missing out on. I wonder if she ever regrets leaving them, leaving us."

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><p>"You should try talking to your Dad," Josh said, as they headed back into the house. Moments ago they had been spotted by Grace and Sam, who had shouted for them to join them down by the water. "Even if all you can do is tell him that you're okay."<p>

"I know," Alex replied, slipping her feet into her flip flops. "That's what I'm gonna go do now." They headed down the stairs side-by-side and, upon reaching the bottom, Josh headed towards the lanai while Alex made it a point to visit everyone gathered. She thanked them for the surprise party, saying she really did appreciate both the party they had planned and everything they had done for her over the last three months, and then she apologized for her earlier behavior. Discovering her dad was out front talking with Mr. Sullivan, Alex ventured to the front door and hesitated to pull it open; it would be rude to intrude on their conversation. Dropping her hand from the door knob, she turned around with the intention of joining Kamekona, Max, Lori and Kono who were all heading out the sliding glass door onto the lanai. Before she had even taken three steps, the door opened behind her and in stepped Mr. Sullivan. She greeted him and then moved past him and out the door. Stepping onto the porch, she couldn't help but laugh at the site of her dad dropping to the ground.

Hearing his daughter's laughter, he looked up from his prone position. "What?"

"You're gonna do like a thousand pushups, aren't you?"

He pushed himself up onto his knees and sat back on his heels. "What makes you say that?"

"You mean besides the fact that you were in the prone position?" she asked facetiously. A harsh coughing attack ruined the effect. "You have that look on your face."

"What look?" he asked, slightly amused at the memory of their last conversation about him having a certain look on his face. That had been five days ago, on the plane, when she had mentioned the face Danny referred to as 'Aneurysm Face'. Now, here she was, saying he was giving her _another_ look.

An amused smile still on her face, she sat down in one of the chairs. "That look you get when you're confused or stressed or worried about something and, to deal with it, you do pushups."

His daughter knew him all too well and she knew it. He shook his head in mild amusement at the proud smirk that filled her face and then moved to stand up. Alex halted him with an offer to count how many pushups he could do. She also bet him he couldn't do more than two-hundred and, well, he had no qualms about proving her wrong. He returned to the prone position before raising himself up and starting his pushup routine.

As she counted, she thought back to her conversation with Josh. He had asked her how her dad was dealing with what her mom had done and now, seeing him with that look in his eyes – that one that was pure determination combined with an intense mulling over of whatever was going through his mind – she realized that last night had to have been just as hard on him as it had been on her. Yet, he had done everything he could think of to find her after she had ran away from the apartment and, after locating her at the ferry station, he had taken care of her. Again, he had proven to her that she was his main priority in life. He was the best dad a girl could ask for and she didn't understand how she had gotten so lucky to have him for a dad.

When he reached one-hundred pushups, he appeared to be completely oblivious to everything around him. So, she decided to join him. She got down in a plank position facing him and then, matching his tempo, she began her own pushup routine. At her sixth pushup her dad seemed to come out of his daze and his eyes bore into hers. She followed his lead as he slowed down the pace. Finally, on her fifteenth pushup, she said, "I want to talk to you…about what I'm feeling… but I can't right now. I just –" She somehow managed to shrug her shoulders while lifting herself to the up position. "I just need some time and I need you to believe me when I say I _will_ talk to you when I'm ready to."

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><p>"How many is that?" Chin asked Danny. "Forty?" They were watching the Super Seal and Seal Junior – their brand, spanking new – new as in two minutes ago – nickname for the girl – as they performed, in perfect harmony, pushups. Steve had been known on occasion to drop down, sometimes at the most random of times, and start performing the exercise. He and Danny had tried counting once but they had lost count somewhere after 225 and then, bored, they had departed Headquarters, leaving Steve alone in the middle of the conference room floor to continue his pushups. Now, watching Alex, they were not only impressed by her ability to steal her dad's attention away from that place Steve's mind went to every time he did pushups, but also by her physical abilities.<p>

"Forty-five," Danny said, after counting the last couple of pushups. He shook his head. As if dealing with one hyped up, super physically fit Seal wasn't bad enough, now, apparently, Steve was training his daughter to be the same. He reminded himself to never agree to do anything related to physical fitness with either one of the McGarrett's. When he saw Alex give up and drop to the ground, he started walking towards the front door.

"Geez, Josh, she did fifty," Sam piped in from his position next to Chin. "That's more than you can do."

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><p>"And," Alex continued, her arms starting to get sore as she forced herself to slow down. "I want you to know that I'm okay." Giving into a dry, hurtful cough, she stopped, keeping herself raised in the plank position for several moments before dropping to the ground and sitting as she continued to cough.<p>

Having stopped his routine when his daughter did, he sat next to her and placed a comforting hand on her back as the coughs racked her body. The cough that had developed in the middle of the night had steadily gotten worse throughout the day. He definitely would be taking her to the doctor in the morning.

"You are both insane," Danny said, stepping out of the house. "You know that? Just insane."

Rubbing her sternum after the coughs subsided, she glanced at her dad, giving him an amused smile before looking up at Danny. "I think you're just jealous."

"Jealous?" Danny asked, throwing his hands up in the air. "Of what? Pushups?" When Alex nodded, he said, "You two are the only people I know who actually do pushups for fun."

"Other people do pushups for fun, Uncle Danny," Alex said, giving him a sweet smile that told Steve she was going to start picking on Danny. "I know in New Jersey people would rather eat pizza and work with the mob than do pushups, but –"

"You," Danny said, pointing at her. "Spend way too much time with your father." With an exaggerated sigh, he turned around, mumbling something about the Garden State and pizza that didn't have pineapple on it. As he opened the door to step inside, Alex started laughing and didn't let up even after Danny had closed the door shut behind him.

Finally, turning to him, Alex said, "You owe me dinner on the North Shore."

"What?" He must have missed something.

"You did a hundred and fifty three," she replied, giving into a smug look. "I win the bet." She started laughing again.

In that moment, hearing his daughter's contagious laughter, Steve knew that she was and would be, without a doubt, okay.

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><p><strong>AN: Let me know what you think. Did this chapter explain in enough detail what Cindy said/did in Seattle? Or would you prefer a longer explanation of it? Thanks!**


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: This story will be going on hiatus for an extended amount of time. I have been unemployed for over a year and, finally, tomorrow I leave for a nearly six-month schooling paid entirely by my new employers (due to privacy concerns I will not post who my employer is in this forum; only via PM's) before relocating to a different part of the country. The training will consist of long working days (4:30 am until 7 pm or later each night) and include rigorous physical training as well as in-class workshops. For that reason, I will have very limited time to work on the continuation of this story; however, if I do find time to write, I will post. I am going to push the "complete" button on this and, when I start posting again (most likely in September), I will start by posting a new story – My Father's Shadow 2. If you will be interested in reading the continuation of this story when I do get around to posting, you might want to add me to your author's alert so you know when I post again. **

**A/N 2: Thank you so much to everyone who has added this story to their alerts and just for reading this in general. Thank you to everyone who has left reviews: francis2, eviltimewaster, Catii'aSofiia', fan, NYR88, Gear's Girl, tessab, HBSpud, loveRnB, wcfan, ncis42, KimmieFern, Lovewarorwhatever, amblue36, .Chick, LadyAilith, narwhayley, lynnrxgal, Pat Toby, Ircam, kiwimeggles, simplyn2deep, Aleja21, BenJoh. This is my first experience writing fanfic so I was really nervous when I posted the first chapter. Your kind reviews and PM's were really encouraging and they motivated me to continue this story. Thank you again! Thank you to BenJoh for giving me a mini course in some Italian; chapters 23 and 24 have been edited to reflect those changes. **

**Also, if I get a chance today, amid all of the packing, I am going to try to fix some of the errors (typos, missing words, etc) that I have found in some of the chapters. I am a little disappointed I didn't catch them during the editing process.**

**With that said, here is the chapter to close out this part of the story. Talk to you in the fall!**

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><p>"Eat up," Steve said, his eyes focused on the pan on the stove as he held out a plate that contained an omelet and some melon pieces. It was his daughter's first day of high school and he wanted to make sure she had a wholesome breakfast to tide her over until lunch time. As she took the plate out of his hands, he instantly forgot all about his own omelet cooking away on the stove when he saw the skirt she was wearing. Turning to face her, he stated, "You are <em>NOT<em> going to school dressed like that!"

Setting her plate down on the counter, she looked down at her outfit and then at her dad. She really had no clue why he had a problem with her wearing a white button-up shirt, opened over a light blue camisole, and a darker blue skirt. She had worn this same ensemble before – just never in front of him – and no one had ever had a problem with it. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Taking in his outfit, she commented, "It's not like my shirt is as tight as yours."

"That skirt is way too short," he told her, choosing to ignore her smart-ass comment, as his eyes just about started to water again at the sight of far too much of her bare leg showing. The skirt was a good four and a half inches above her knee and, although he had seen girls her age wear skirts even shorter than that, his daughter would _never_ leave the house looking like that. "Go change."

Putting her hands on her hips, she glowered at him. "I wore this skirt all the time in Seattle."

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he argued, "I don't believe for a second that your mother let you out of the apartment in that skirt." _Oh, shit._ As soon as he said it, he regretted it. They had not talked about Cindy at all since she had announced that she would be terminating her parental rights and, when Alex had told him that she needed some time before talking about her, he had agreed to be patient until she was ready to talk. Bringing Cindy up now, like this, was certainly not the way to start that discussion.

"Mom was never home, remember?" Her tone confirmed that he had screwed up by mentioning her mom.

He took a step towards her. "Alex, I –"

"Fine I'll go change," she interrupted, grabbing her plate off the counter and leaving the kitchen. "Your eggs are burning."

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><p>"You sure you have everything?" he asked her as the climbed into the truck. Once inside, he continued, "Lunch? Notebooks? A copy of your schedule?"<p>

"Yes, Dad," Alex answered, sounding slightly annoyed as she reached for the seatbelt. "For the fifth time, yes."

"Don't exaggerate," he told her as he backed the truck out of the driveway. "I only asked you twice."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, but I already told you the _first_ time you asked that I have everything."

Although she had not said anything after changing her clothes – she now wore a knee length skirt which was perfectly acceptable to him – and eating breakfast, her tone had suggested that she was still not very pleased he had mentioned her mother. Understanding his daughter well enough, he knew the importance of choosing his battles wisely. So he decided to not address her tone and, instead, simply responded to her comment. "I just want to make sure your first day of high school goes smoothly."

"Were you this antsy on _your_ first day of high school?"

Steve shook his head. "No, but my Mom was." In fact, as that particular memory popped into his mind, he had had this exact conversation with his mother on his first day of high school. She had asked him at least twice if he was sure he had all of his supplies and money for lunch and, just like Alex, he had gotten annoyed.

"It's just school, Dad," she told him, before it dawned on her exactly what this was all about and why he'd been such a pain in the butt since she woke up two hours ago. "You don't like that I'm old enough to be in high school. That's what this is really about." Hearing a familiar song on the radio – and knowing that he would not respond to her observation – she turned up the volume. "I love this song!"

As his daughter sang along with and danced in her seat to the song on the radio, he thought about her comment. Sure, his little girl was growing up – it seemed like only yesterday when he held that six-pound, three-ounce baby girl in his arms for the first time – and he didn't like it anymore than the next guy, but that was not what was bugging him. Not entirely, at least. Alex was entering high school. She was entering high school with the knowledge that her mother wanted absolutely nothing to do with her. Although Alex had seemed perfectly fine over the last eight days since their return to Honolulu, he, on the other hand, had not. Maybe Jason was right when he said that this was harder on them than on the kids.

That afternoon of the surprise welcome home party had gone tremendously well. Every time he had looked up at the sign that Lori, Kono, Grace and Sam had made, with the words 'Welcome Home' painted on, he had been unable to keep the smile off of his face. All he could think was that, after ten long years, he finally had his daughter back home for good. Only eleven weeks prior, Alex had stepped off that plane, not only surprising him with her growth in height but also her maturity. At that time, he had never imagined that she would end up staying in Honolulu with him, giving him the opportunity to be a full-time, actively involved father again. He had thought about everything they had been through over those eleven weeks – Alex's kidnapping; her up and down emotions; her doubting his love; their mutual pain over his father's death; everything with Cindy; bonding over shared interests; getting to know each other all over again – and, through it all, their relationship had blossomed into one that was closer than most teenagers probably had with either of their parents. At least he liked to think that was the case.

What had made that day even better was the way she had naturally interacted with everyone. Alex had made it a point to engage in conversation with nearly everyone – for some odd reason, she had not been very open to speaking with Joe – and she had had a smile on her face the entire evening. She and Kono had taken a surf board down to the beach for an impromptu, albeit short, surfing lesson; she and Max had talked about an article on parallel universes found in this month's _Scientific American_ magazine before they started discussing what work of Chopin's was their favorite to play on the piano; Chin and Alex had had a lengthy talk on the beach – as to what they had discussed he still did not know – before they decided to joke about Chin being the better quarterback; Alex and Lori had had an interesting discussion on the science of profiling; Kamekona had asked Alex's opinion about some of the shrimp dishes he served at his shop – she politely told him that maybe having 31 different dishes really wasn't the best of ideas – before he recruited her to help out during the next week; Danny and Alex had an animated discussion about their two favorite things – baseball and teasing him; Alex had been polite enough to Joe but she had only talked to him when it was in a group setting. Later, accompanied by her three young partners-in-crime, she had disappeared into the house for awhile before coming back armed with water pistols and water balloons which they unleashed on the adults, focusing mostly on him, Danny, and Jason. Simply put, it had been an afternoon full of merriment that had helped him take his mind off of Cindy.

That evening, after the backyard had been cleaned up, the trash taken out, and everyone had left, he had told her they needed to run an errand. Wanting to help ease her transition from living in Seattle to living in Hawaii full time, he had driven to a home improvement store, leading her to the paint aisle and telling her to pick a color to paint the walls of her room; he wanted her to feel at home in her bedroom. As she decided – she ended up picking a shade of lavender – he had asked if she wanted to go get anything – a desk; a new sheet and comforter set; wall hangings; anything – to help make her room hers. She had told him she had everything she needed to decorate her room. She wanted to keep her grandfather's desk; she'd use the current comforter set on the bed until hers arrived in the mail; she still wanted to hang the framed pencil rubbing of her grandfather's dog tags and the official military picture of Steve – both of which they had brought with them on the plane – and, when they arrived in the mail, the pictures of Italy and France that had been hanging in her bedroom in Seattle. The only thing she wanted to add were several pictures she had taken over the summer – some of her and him; pictures of her, Josh, Sam and Grace at summer camp; others taken with every member of 5-0 and Kamekona; a picture of her and Mary – and asked if they could buy frames for them once she figured out how many and what size she would need.

The next morning, after arguing with her that she was in no condition to run seven miles that morning – he had heard her coughing throughout the night – he had taken her to the clinic where, after Alex informed the doctor – a female – that she had noticed a little bit of blood in her urine the last couple of days, they had determined she had a urinary tract infection on top of the coughing and was prescribed an antibiotic that should take care of both. Leaving the clinic with pills in hand, he had gotten upset with her for not telling him about urinating blood and stressed the importance of letting him know when something like that happened. She had apologized but told him that it was weird to talk to him about that stuff; it was easier to talk to a female. At that, his anger towards Cindy had returned. He had then reminded himself to speak to the three main women in their life – Kono, Catherine, and Mary – and hoped that maybe at least one of them would become Alex's go-to person for personal things that she didn't feel comfortable talking to him about.

After that they had driven over to Alex's new school for a meeting with her assigned guidance counselor who would help finalize Alex's class schedule. He had received a call from the Governor while they waited in the hallway and, after apologizing to Alex, who, it was decided, would walk to Headquarters when she was done, he had headed to the crime scene – a boat in the harbor. An hour and a half later, he had been sitting in his office, waiting for positive identification of the victim to come from Max, when Alex had walked into his office, her fall semester schedule in hand. She had taken the seat next to his desk before handing him the schedule. He had scanned the list of classes – Geometry; Chemistry; History of Hawaii; Honors English 9; Computer Science; Introduction to Japanese – before being shocked when he spotted the last class on the list: Naval ROTC. They had discussed her interest in learning Japanese but she had never mentioned any interest in ROTC. After their case had been transferred to HPD – the victim had been identified as a man involved in an active HPD investigation – Steve and Alex had returned home, where, after lunch, they had started painting her room.

The next morning had involved Steve taking Alex to an appointment with her new therapist. He escorted her upstairs to ensure that she actually went to the appointment and then he was called to a case. When he had met Alex at Kamekona's for lunch – she had been helping him out in exchange for free food – he had been delighted to hear that she had only positive things to say about her appointment _and_ the therapist. As they had finished sharing their mixed plate of garlic scampi and lemon butter shrimp, Alex had asked if Josh – who was stuck babysitting Sam – could come over that afternoon to help finish painting her room. After careful consideration and a serious lecture about being alone with boys, he had agreed, due largely in part to the antibiotic that had thus far done very little for her cough. He had preferred that she be at home hacking up a lung rather than at Kamekona's shrimp truck; he wasn't sure Kamekona's 'immunity' would make him exempt from a health code violation. When he had arrived home later that night, the boys were gone, Alex's room was completely painted, and she was fast asleep in his bed, wearing his clothes again in what would become the start of a new habit of hers.

The rest of the week had passed quickly with him barely seeing or even speaking to his daughter all day. He had left the house early each morning while Alex, who had acquired a fever and stomach bug on top of everything else, was still asleep. Then, regardless of what time he had gotten home – four in the afternoon; seven in the evening; ten at night – he had found Alex asleep in his bed, wearing one of his t-shirts and either a pair of his sweatpants or board shorts, with the TV on. Thanks to her illness – she rarely got sick but, when she did, it hit her hard – she had been unable to make any progress on her room. So, in order for it to be ready before the school year started, he had gone to work in her bedroom each night after tucking her in under his sheets. He had spray painted the dresser white – something she had mentioned wanting to do during their lunch at Kamekona's – as well as re-hung curtains, rearranged the furniture according to a sketch he had found left on the desk, and refolded her clothes – he made a mental note to teach her how to fold her t-shirts into perfect squares – before returning them to the newly painted dresser. By the time she had finally started to feel better late Friday afternoon, all that was left for her to do was decorate her walls.

They had spent Saturday shopping and, what should have been a short trip to buy school supplies and a few new articles of clothing, had ended up turning into an all day affair. It had taken Alex an hour in one store alone to try on twenty different shirts before deciding that she only liked one – _one!_ – and then another seventy minutes to pick out one skirt and a pair of Capri pants. Standing in that store, waiting on her to make up her mind – shopping with a teenage girl certainly was a lesson in patience – his mind had flashed ahead three years when he would have to take her shopping for a prom dress. In that moment, he had gotten angry and upset with Cindy again. Finding the perfect prom dress was an experience that every teenage girl should have with their mother; Alex would now have to miss out on that opportunity.

"Dad!" Alex's too-loud voice brought him back to the present.

Sending her a look, he asked, "What?"

"Can we do that?"

"What?" he asked again, having not heard a single word she had said to him.

"For our father-daughter date." She sent him a weird look; he had completely ignored her when she was talking to him. How rude.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, turning his head momentarily to look at her. "What about it?" On Sunday, while they had been lounging on the lanai and just talking, he had proposed a new weekly ritual: father-daughter date night. Once school started, her schedule would be busy. That, coupled with his already crazy work schedule, had made him want to ensure he got to have at least one night/day each week to connect with her away from the hustle and bustle of their schedules. He had set two ground rules: first that they do something different each week – try a new food; do something educational one week and something adventurous the next; visit someplace on the island she or both of them hadn't been before; etc – and, second, that no matter what was going on in their lives they both make it a point to ensure they have their 'date' each week. Not surprisingly, she had immediately taken to the idea.

"Was my singing that bad?" She asked, crossing her arms in front of her and looking out the window. "Is that why you tuned me out?"

"No," he said, before apologizing again. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to." Nudging her in the arm, he continued, "I wanna know what your idea was."

Uncrossing her arms, she looked at him again with a smile on her face. "I said maybe we can go to the Koko Crater Stairs, then to the gun range so you can teach me to shoot, and then you can cash in on that dinner you owe me. Only it would be lunch."

"Koko Crater Stairs? The gun range?"

"Yes," she replied, not sure why it was so hard for him to understand that the first time. "I want to see how many steps I can run up; it'll be good conditioning for cross-country tryouts. And, ever since Commander White and you talked about Grandpa's gun, I've been thinking I'd like to shoot with it one day."

"You know, you don't have to call him Commander," he told her. Her explanation had reminded him of something else he had been meaning to talk to her about. "Joe would be perfectly fine." At that moment, he pulled to the curb outside the main entrance of Alex's school, where dozens of kids were gathered outside. "Speaking of, why don't you like him?"

"It's not that I don't like him, Dad," she answered, removing her seatbelt. Catching his eye, she explained, "I just – there's something about him that tells me I can't trust him."

He gave her an inquisitive look that quickly turned into one of displeasure. "Joe is like a second father to me. I trust him with my life."

"I get that, Dad," she said, waving at Josh, who was standing a couple of yards away, through the window. "But I still don't trust him. Sorry." Opening her door, she said, "So, good idea or no?"

With a sigh, he decided to drop it. He couldn't force her to trust Joe; let her come to that in her own time. "I think that sounds like a great plan for this weekend," he told her as she climbed out of the truck. "Have a good day and remember, if any boys –"

"Relax, Dad," she interrupted with a laugh, as she turned around to face him. "If any boy tries to cop a feel, I'll slap him in the face." When she saw the overjoyed and pleased look appear on his face, she grinned and then said, "Unless of course he's cute." That wiped the smile right off his face. She grabbed her backpack off the floor, looked him in the eye, and said, "Love you."

"Love you, too, Sweetheart." He watched her approach Josh, hugging him before they both headed up the walkway towards the front steps of the school. Only when they entered the building did he brush a hand over his damp eyes and pull away from the curb. As he drove to the office, his thoughts were on his little girl, now nearly all grown up, and, for the first time in eight days he did not feel anger towards Cindy. All he felt at this moment was relief and a deep gratitude; he had his daughter with him permanently and that made everything feel right in the world again. No matter what life had in store for them in the future, they would be okay because they had each other. He would be okay because she was with him.

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><p><strong>AN: I'd love to hear your favorite/least favorite parts of this story. Any recommendations on how to improve it? Anything you would like to see in the next part of the story? Thanks!**


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